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#i also don’t wanna be ignorant and miss out on news
ambassadorarlert · 13 days
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i’m genuinely so tired of tiktok. the way content creators fear monger their audience is so fucking real and if i hear somebody else talking about something they got from the tIkToK sHoP i’m gonna YELL SO LOUD. like my fyp is fucking poisoned bc my irl friends who have no sense of internet awareness send me absolut bullshit. let me watch my funny haha’s in peace
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buckymorelikefuckme · 1 month
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and baby makes three
(the reboot)
bucky barnes x fem reader
words: 11.3k
warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.
a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)
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The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…
It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.
And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.
You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.
Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.
Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.
It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.
The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?
...Yearning?
No. Definitely not. Nope.
There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.
Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.
It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.
Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.
You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?
It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.
And god, do you even want a baby?
As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.
Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.
It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.
You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.
This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.
***
You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.
It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.
You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.
“You could knock,” you grouse.
“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.
You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”
He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”
You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.
“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.
Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.
Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.
He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”
You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”
“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.
“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.
“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.
He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.
You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.
Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.
Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”
“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.
Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.
“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”
He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.
Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.
Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.
There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.
“So… You’re serious.”
You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”
He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”
You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”
“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.
You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”
You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.
After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”
“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.
He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.
“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.
“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”
“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.
“Absolutely not.”
“Let me see!”
“It’s private!”
“Don’t be a chicken.”
Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.
You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.
“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”
Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.
“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”
“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“What?” he asks innocently.
When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.
“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.
“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”
You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.
“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”
He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.
“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.
You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”
“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”
You frown, not following.
“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.
“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“
“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”
Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.
You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.
For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.
“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”
He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”
He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.
And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.
Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.
“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.
It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.
***
With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.
Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.
You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.
And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.
Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.
“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.
“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”
He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”
Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.
“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.
“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”
He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”
“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”
“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.
“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”
Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”
You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.
***
The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.
Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.
A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.
His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”
“Hi,” you return.
He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”
You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”
Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”
“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”
“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.
“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”
Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”
Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.
“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”
Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”
“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.
He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.
This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.
Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.
“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.
A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.
“You okay?” you hear through the door.
“Will you come here, please?” you ask.
He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”
“I did it,” you whisper.
He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.
“Congratulations,” he says softly.
“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.
“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”
He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.
“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”
It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.
Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.
“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.
“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.
“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.
***
Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.
But nothing happens.
All of your tests come back negative.
When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.
Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!
***
The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.
But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.
You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”
Bucky frowns. “Why not?”
“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?
“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”
You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”
“Why not?”
You look heavenward for mercy. “I have to…”
When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”
You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”
His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.
“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”
“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”
His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”
You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”
“But you haven’t been doing… that.”
“I didn’t think I’d need to.”
Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.
“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”
“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”
“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.
He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.
Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.
Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.
“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.
This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.
Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.
The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.
You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.
Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.
Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.
He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.
When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.
Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.
Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.
That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.
***
You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.
Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.
And wait.
You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.
It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.
The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.
Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.
“What do I do, Bucky?”
At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.
When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.
“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”
“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.
Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”
“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.
“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”
You frown. “What do you mean?”
He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”
Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.
“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”
“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”
“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”
“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.
His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.
“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”
You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.
Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.
“Okay,” you allow, softly.
Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.
You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)
***
Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.
It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.
You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.
“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.
He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.
“Hey,” he greets.
“Hi.”
You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.
“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”
“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.
“It’s not gonna be weird.”
“Nope.”
His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.
“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.
Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.
“May I?” he asks.
Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.
Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.
The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.
He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.
It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!
When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.
“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.
He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…
He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.
Oh.
Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.
He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.
His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.
He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.
“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.
Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.
Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.
Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.
“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.
“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.
He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—
“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.
He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”
“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”
The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.
He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.
You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.
His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.
“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.
The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.
Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.
He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.
Stop it, you scold yourself.
He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.
“O-Oh,” you whimper.
The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.
“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.
He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.
“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”
You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.
Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.
It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.
“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.
“That was…”
“Mhm,” you mumble.
Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”
You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.
You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.
“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”
He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”
His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.
“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.
Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.
“Right.”
Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.
You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.
Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.
“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”
“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”
He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”
You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.
As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.
***
It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.
Honest.
You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.
Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.
That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.
More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.
You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.
I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.
***
Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.
His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.
“Hey,” you say after a pause.
He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”
You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”
It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.
“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.
You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”
“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.
“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”
He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.
“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.
Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.
***
Another week passes.
Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.
When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.
Positive.
Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.
“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.
You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.
The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.
Every single one of them… Positive.
A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.
He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.
“Did we…?”
Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.
“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”
“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.
He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.
“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.
“What?” you question distractedly.
“I’m in love with you.”
Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.
“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”
You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…
But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.
“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”
He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”
Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.
He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.
When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.
“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.
His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.
“Bucky, please,” you beg.
“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”
You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”
“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”
“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”
“Oh god,” you mumble.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.
His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.
“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”
He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.
“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”
You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.
He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.
He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.
You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.
He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.
“So good, did so well,” he mutters.
Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.
“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”
Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.
“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”
He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”
He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.
“Hi.”
You crack a smile. “Hi.”
“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.
“Interesting,” he muses.
Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.
“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.
You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.
“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”
He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.
“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.
You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”
Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.
“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”
“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.
The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.
“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.
His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.
You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.
“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.
Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”
“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”
His smile goes soft at the edges.
It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.
For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.
***
Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.
“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”
“What about—”
“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.
You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.
Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).
You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.
It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.
Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.
“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.
He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.
“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”
Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.
“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”
Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.
He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”
The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.
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999h34rt · 13 days
Text
FLATLINE | PAIGE BUECKERS
➣ paige x fem!gf!reader
➣ summary: y/n and paige experience what it means to be in a long distance relationship, but with the distance between them, can they overcome it?
➣ warning : secret relationship, angst (kinda) ,long distance.
➣ duayaps: first post🥳🥳🥳, thoughts?
➣ inspired by flatline by justin bieber.
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"I'LL MISS YOU" paige muttered against her neck.
"it'll go by before you know it" y/n said pulling away from the hug. When college applications started being filled, she took a big risk and applied for Politecnico di Milano, a fashion uni in Milan, Italy. She had already said goodbye to her parents, thinking that was the hardest goodbye she could imagine, but the tears in her eyes from saying goodbye to her girlfriend right now, told her she lied to herself a while ago.
Paige and y/n had always had a rocky side of their relationship, for one, it was a secret waiting to bomb the world, two, they always knew that long distance was going to be a thing for them. With Paige going to Uconn and Yn going to PDM, 'it was already doomed' said by most people. But overcoming the rocky side of their relationship, there was the fairytale side. The one where they in love, where they supported each other in everything, where they took each others first kisses, first everything. They were each other's lifelines in a way, they didn't go a day without speaking to each other.
They both hoped that these future 4 years, weren’t going to change their feelings of each other.
Lately you've been busy, wondering if you miss me
Why did you go against me? I just wanna know
How come you act so different? Talk to me, I'll listen
All the love I'm giving, don't act like you don't know
“…leave a message after the tone” y/n sighed as she hung up the phone. It was 7am and her alarm had just gone off, Paige was most likely asleep. It’s 1am at Storrs.
If you put the time difference aside, they were doing well. Both of them spent at least 2 hours everyday on the phone and haven’t had an any problems yet.
But it’s only been 5 months. 7 months and 3 years to go.
Y/n was glad Paige settled in great, she got along with her teammates and had a great support system there. Paige became a media star, with that came many fans. While y/n wasn’t the jealous type, these fans were wild.
She opened her instagram app, and slowly started to scroll through stories. When she stopped, went stiff. “Oh” she muttered, her girlfriend’s teammate, Aaliyah, had posted a story with the Uconn women’s basketball team having fun ,at what she would guess, a bar. Paige is in the background , a girl sitting next to her, whiles shes on the phone. Y/n quickly checked when the story was posted,10minutes ago.
‘Okay so she could’ve just posted this when she came home’ y/n quickly assured herself. Paige wouldn’t just ignore her calls, especially on a night out, right?
As those thoughts filled her head, a notification sound came from her phone.
pb 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽
gm baby. can’t talk, tired, going to bed.
y/n didn’t think anything, she couldn’t. She just typed ‘sweet dreams💗’ and hit send.
no i love you, no ily, not even an emoji.
‘Stop, don’t overthink this ,shes just tired’ she told herself. She shut her phone off and got out of bed, leaving her thoughts about P in her comfy bed.
:
It had been a month since the bar incident, and everything seemed normal, until a week ago.
Y/n just got out of work, a small intern job to help her graduate early. It was 6pm in Milan, and 12 in Storrs.On her way home, y/n called P.
The phone rang, 1,2,3 times before she hung up. Tried a gain, 1,2,3. User is busy.Paige had hung up on her, she didn’t think much of it. ‘She’s probs busy’.
That was 6 days ago.
While they exchange texts, no calls were made this week. Paige was busy, like really busy, But not busy ‘not go out with her friends for the 3rd time this week’ busy. Y/n got it, freshman year, new teammates, she had to have fun. She also knew that their relationship was on the down low. Even though she assured Paige that it was okay to tell her teammates, P reluctantly agreed. ‘I don’t know, i’ll see’ She muttered to y/n, 2 weeks ago on their normal facetime call.
Y/n didn’t want to think much of it, she didn’t want her overthinking to brew a fight. The last 2 years she was back home, her and paige had never gone a day without speaking to each other, but so what it stopped now?, it was common sometimes to not call. So she let it be, but Paiges text became more and more rare,more dry and definitely more weird.
But y/n knew, paige was just busy.
Girl you always catch me at the bad time (Bad time)
When I know you probably think it's a lie (A lie)
I know I told you last time was the last time (Last time)
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?
On the other end of the phone. Y/n hit the red button, and ended the call. She hit her head on the wall behind her in frustration, thankful that the call wasn’t on facetime and Paige could see her sad face.
Y/n had called in sick at work so she could watch Paiges game in peace, her boss gave her an earful, because it was one of the more busier seasons in the fashion world, but she let her be ‘sick in bed’. She was proud of Paige, and was the happiest for her.
But the mood drifted when she heard the voice tell her they need her. ‘I need her too’ Y/n thought. This was the first time in a month that Y/n heard Paiges voice. Her heart clenched when she heard her sound weird, it sounded like she was frustrated. Frustrated with who though, with y/n?.
As time went quick, it felt like Paiges texts were more rare, and even more dry. And Y/n didn’t know if Paige was aware of the way she was acting, she also didn’t know if she should say anything, Paige was a freshman in college having fun, alone,without Y/n next to her.
If Y/n were to say anything, she didn’t want to seem like the bitchy jealous girlfriend that only wanted Paige to spend time with her, she just wanted Paige to spend some time with her.
It felt like their relationship was a bomb, and their time was running out quickly.
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline? (Flatline)
Cause when I hit you, you don't even reply (Reply)
How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?
Not breathing, what is it I'm not seeing
Said she's leaving, damn I can't believe it
It's like my heart's bleeding knowing that you don't need me
Shut my heart down, now I don't know what Imma do now
“… i just need some space y/n” Paige said with frustration, a sigh coming after. Y/n’s heart dropped.
It all started an hour and a half ago.
Paige went out with her teammates after a late night practice, forgetting that y/n was waiting on her phone call that she promised she would do after practice.
After she came home, she was bombarded with messages from Y/n. 8 to be exact.
y/n💍
hey did you finish practice?
- 8:15PM
you ready?
- 8:18PM
paige?
- 8:20PM
paigeeeeeeee???
- 8:30PM
pbabyyyy
- 8:35PM
pls tell me u didn’t forget
- 8:45PM
paige are you fucking kidding me
- 9:45PM
it’s our anniversary
- 9:45PM
call me when you get home and make sure you’re not busy
- 9:50PM
And when she called, the yelling happened. It was the first fight they’ve had in a while. While Y/n finally exploded demanding to know what’s happening with her, Paige only had one thing to say.
“I think we should take a break”
“What?” Y/n whispered after a long pause.
“i’m not ready to be in a relationship Y/n/n, i’m still questioning what i want, and i don’t know if its you yet.” Paige said. “I’m sorry, i just need some space Y/n”
Y/n heart dropped, she didn’t know what to say or think. While Y/n knew that not everything lasted, Paige was a sure thing. Paige was her lifeline. What was she going to do?.
Y/n gulped and said the only thing she knew she could say “It’s okay”.
‘It’s okay?’ Paige was taken back. Had Y/n want to breakup before?, and then Paige shockingly felt hurt in her chest, her stomach slightly dropped. Why was she feeling like this? why isn’t she feeling relief?. This has been on Paiges mind for the past 3 months, wasn’t this the solution?
“Go be a superstar but don’t expect me to wait for you while you figure out what you want to do” Y/n said, her voice sweet. Not even a slight tone of bitterness.
Y/n still wasn’t able to move from her spot on the kitchen counter. Tears were streaming down her face, and before a sob sound could come, she hung up the phone. All Y/n knew was Paige, but know she didn’t even know that.
She had literally left her clueless, without her lifeline. now flatline.
- 5 MONTHS LATER -
Paige stood there, watching from her afar.
“That’s her?” a croatian accent asked. She felt Nika sit beside her. “Yeah” Paige answered still in awe of her.
“She’s really pretty” Nika said. Paige nodded agreeing with her. She was wearing a flowy white short summer dress with cowboy boots.
It was Drews birthday today, and as the team had some off time, Drew invited them to his barbecue party. And the weekend before his birthday, he ran into Y/n. Of course the boy was oblivious to the breakup and while he asked still asked Paige for Y/n, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that they broke up.
So when Drew begged Y/n to come to his birthday party, Y/n didn’t know what else to say but yes. He could literally get whatever he wanted out of everyone.
At first, Y/n debated if she should just call Paiges stepmom and cancel, or she should just go and pray that Paige couldn’t make it.
Well, Paige had come. And so did the rest of the huskies. When Y/n saw them, she sighed. Although she was friends with Azzi, she didn’t know the rest of them, but by the look on their faces when she came in, she knew that Paige had told them her history.
Azzi, being the sweetheart she is, excitedly came running to Y/n and hugging her tight. The whole party they caught up with each other, with Azzi telling her about Uconn and Y/n telling her about studying abroad. For the past 30 minutes they’ve been talking, not once have either of them mentioned Paige.
Y/n turned, meeting Paiges eyes. The two of them made eye contact with each other again. Y/n then heard Azzi laughed, when she snapped her head to look at her friend. She saw a small teasing smile on her face. “Don’t even start” Y/n said, glaring at her. She got up and made her way to the other side of the backyard, where there was no Paige in sight.
“Y/n/n” she heard a child scream. Drew was suddenly hugging her legs. “Hi Drewsky” she laughed, beginning to tickle him. She felt the boy starting to laugh, and start to kick her hands away, while Paige and her were together, Drew became a big part in their relationship. Paiges parents often made Paige babysit Drew, and Y/n just tagged along. Through that time, Drew and Y/n became close, Y/n considered him as a baby brother. She would miss him.
“Paigeyy help me” Drew screamed laughing. Y/n became stiff, the hair behind her neck stood. She could feel her ex behind her as she let the little boy go and stand up.
Paige and Y/n stared at one another. Paige was thankful her teammates weren’t around right now, they would be on her ass all day after this.
“Hi” Y/n whispered, looking away from her and to the ground.
“Hey” Paige said back. “How’ve you been-“
“Paige please no small talk, what do you want?” Y/n cut her off. This was already awkward enough, no need to make it even more.
“Uh” Paige stuttered, a sigh coming after. “I missed you” Paige admitted. Y/n’s blood boiled, now she missed me?
Paige could sense Y/n anger, she placed a hand on Y/n elbow, tugging her from leaving. “Please just wait” Paige pleaded “I’m sorry, i just didn’t know what to do i kept having all of this kind of feelings and i know i was busy but i swear just one more chance-“
“Paige” y/n cut her off
“- and i’ll promise i’ll try harder-“ paige continued
“-stop-“ she tried to stop her
“please just give me one more chance”
“-okay” she agreed. Paiges eyes went wide, she didn’t think she would get her to agree that easy.
“I only needed you to apologize P, i only want you to make some time for me thats all. And if were really trying this again you have to be sure you want this because i don’t know if i can handle loosing you again” She said still looking at the ground.
Paiges heart dropped hearing her voice break. Although she knew how Y/n felt, Paige had been nothing but moody,grumpy and miserable these past few months. Seeing Y/n today, brought her hope that she had a second shot with her.
Y/n slowly picked up her head, and looked up at Paige. Paige was jaw dropping hot, and she knew that, her head couldn’t get any bigger by her ego.
Paige reached a hand towards her waist, pulling Y/n towards her. When she did, she slowly dropped a sweet kiss on her girlfriends lips, when she pulled away, her forehead dropped to Y/n’s.
She felt like she could finally breathe, her chest no longer hurt. She had her lifeline back.
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satoruhour · 10 months
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racer jjk are so good 😩 i wonder if u can make a part two where is explain how the boys (gojo, geto, nanami, toji) and the reader first met. THANK YOUUU
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a/n: thx baby glad u liked them 😉 here you go! also mb if this is lacklustre guys 🧍‍♀i didn’t wanna write smut bc it’d be too similar ig. fun little post! pls still support me 🥹 (nanami’s is a bit suggestive!) / pt.1 here
✶ GOJO
you actually meet his ass when he almost crashes into u and while making a difficult drift turn before swerving at the sight of you. plus  surprise … you’re the police chief’s daughter. gojo at this point is still using a jacked up camaro, so it’s a wonder he’s able to still speed so well away from officers. but it’s not like he was running away from any crime, he just so happened to stumble across an interrogation of a fellow classmate initiated by the police chief’s son (your younger, cop worshipper brother). it was hardly an interrogation tho, more of a bully circle. gojos an cocky man but hes not entirely closed off from things happening around him. when theres people being wrongfully treated he steps in, but he’s pushing the limit a little running away from your brother and his police chief dad. especially when he’s got ties with the racing scene lol. bro doesnt exactly care tho, cause he knew the modifications he made to his engine he’s sure to get away lmaoooo.
there’s a rush of adrenaline that matches the exact moments when the first gear change happens and his foot presses down hard on the break, feeling the familiar sensation of the steering wheel under his fingers as he turns it to the right. nothing like a successful run of a difficult drift route, even more so with an annoying fucking kid chasing him. he was miles behind too, and gojo has to laugh out to himself in the driver’s seat before he yelps out at the shadow on the street.
“damn street lights. don’t even want to spend a few thousand to fix it,” he scoffs, thinking the figure would’ve apologised and ran away, but he’s a little pumped to see you, a relative of the very kid he was running away from. “don’t wanna chase me with daddy over there?”
you notice he’s nodding his head toward the incessant siren, your hotheaded father and your insufferable brother, two of them who butt heads all the time but still manage to get along. you couldn’t care less though, because of their arrogant, conceited behaviour; you vowed never to be like that. your father failed to raise you how he wanted you to turn out: dyed hair at sixteen, a stick ’n poke a year later, colluding with the “wrong” people (they were harmless, he just didn’t like them).
so he turned to your brother, corrupting his mind, and since then, you’ve been a ghost in the house, happy to even be ignored by the conservative kin that find people who are different a ’hassle’. with a story like this, gojo isn’t exactly clueless to your situation so he reaches over and opens the door to the passenger seat in a silent offer.
what’s a little salt in the wound, right?
gojo giggles when you slip in like he knew you would and you simply shrug, knowing this would seal the deal. you know you’re right when you hear furious honks from the police car which is quickly approaching, but watching gojo evade police on the news made you confident he’d outrun them every. single. time. “ooh, doesn’t sound good, princess. i’ll pick you up if you get kicked out of the house.”
it was such a dirty, rude comment that you would’ve slapped him but instead you just burst out laughing, weird noises and all before you’re patting the hand on his stick shift, “drive, hotshot.”
all you can do is roll your eyes with a smile, not missing the exhilarated smile and blush on his cheeks. you already feel at home in the 1969 camaro he’s driving, seeing the exact same car later that night when you’re waiting on the sidewalk with a bulk of your things.
“so much for being daddy’s girl.” gojo smiles, a little sickeningly that you want to punch him (you hear it’s like that from his friends and you find it to be true), but you accept the ride anyway, with a promise he’d get something more later.
✶ GETO
the first time you see him is before a race, having stumbled into the bustling underground of cars and the peak of 2000s fashion because you’re still navigating japan even after six months on an exchange program. it’s difficult when they have different parking lots for every monument building, which all look the same, mind you. it was like a puzzle for your poor mind, especially since there was tons of undocumented alleys in the area you were in. u immediately get hit by the smell of petrol and smoke and conversation and it’s like woah…. stepping entirely into a new world sort of??? even with his fame suguru stays humble tho, keeping gojo ans nanami close to him while keeping his distance from fangirls and stuff. shit gets messy !!!!
gojo nudges geto so hard he almost falls if not for his mazda behind him, and he’s ready to shoot a glare towards satoru but then he looks past the annoying man and into the crowd to find you, doe eyed and looking all around the place like a deer caught in headlights. you’re all dressed up in a cute get-up, hair framing your face so cutely he has half a mind to talk to you. plus, it’s clear you don’t belong here, and there isn’t anything wrong with that but the people here sometimes tend to be a tad bit… stuck-up.
there’s already a few in the crowd giving you weird looks and others giggling, clearly put off by the confused glances you exchange between your phone and the area. geto is prepared to head your way, but his resolve hardens when he sees todo and his gang start to approach the poor person who can only freeze in place.
geto pushes off his car immediately, completely disregarding whatever comment gojo was making while nanami watches silently. todo’s already asked you a question, and when you don’t answer, everyone knows the next thing he’ll do is to humiliate you, but not before geto interferes.
“she’s mine, aoi.” shoving him away, todo only scoffs and spits on the floor beside you because he can’t do anything except leave the place before anything escalates. it’s a clear rule, too, that anyone’s partner or significant other is off-limits, unless you want to propose a race to win them over — but even so it’s not that simple.
the murmurs only heighten when geto asks if you’re okay, a palm on your back to lead you away from the action of everything. thankfully, his mazda and the other two men are stationed at the corner, and the crowd’s attention slowly pulls away from you and onto the revving engines of the two competing cars.
“you okay?” geto looks down, shielding the bright car park lights and peeking a glance at where you were meant to go. it’s a quaint cafe in the basement of a building near shibuya square — a place which could be accessed by the parking lot, but it looks like you took an early turn and ended up in this one instead.
all you could muster up was a nod, mind going a hundred miles per hour just like those cars that were going to race; you’re more focused on his brown eyes that hold yours too well, though, dark and hypnotising that he has to repeat his question.
“yeah. for the most part, i guess. tha—” you mumble, but before you can bow and thank the man who’s already making a mark on your mind with his imposing stature, his friend chimes in.
“don’t mind aoi, he’s just intense like that.” you look past geto to see the white-haired racer who sports a bright grin, and to his side, a blonde, bored-looking guy who’s around the same age. “where you headed?”
geto waves a hand at them and cuts in as you answer, “i’ll take you. don’t mind those two idiots.” his sudden offer has your heart jumping just a bit; a mean brooding guy looking for a little cafe who’s holding a cinnamoroll event at the moment? what a sight to behold.
you’re all prepared to go when gojo tosses the keys to his mazda, and you’re thinking that maybe it really was further than expected but the man is soon leaning down to whisper into your ear.
“but before you go, want to watch me race?” geto grins, noticing that you’re at a loss for words again. you do that a lot, huh. it wouldn’t hurt to show off a little to get you absolutely speechless.
“i’ll treat you to whatever you want in that cute cafe, too.”
✶ NANAMI
ok the small drabble i wrote was sorta how they met but yes basically that!!!! nanami comes in at first (but you’re not doing much, just hanging around in the back), panicking cause he’s got an important race tmr (he just doesn’t gojo to win over whether he would have to borrow one of gojo’s dodge chargers) and hes like ? hes wondering what’s wrong with his dodge and when your dad mentions how he may need to order the parts his world falls apart fr 😭. and then he ends up borrowing it from gojo LMFAOOO. since you guys roughly know their meeting (nanami’s return to the shop after your father fixes the car and then eating you out wheeew) ill highlight life with nanami after that whole shebang!
you like to recall the first time you’ve met nanami, hardly a meeting, really, because you didn’t even see his face, but you hear his voice. a deep timbre with a seriousness to it that tells you that he could’ve fixed his own car if he tried and maybe just lacked the parts. however, you’re appalled when your father comes home later that night and tells you it was a dodge charger they were dealing with, a 1968 release that was no doubt passed down in his generation.
so when you’re peeking out of the supply room the second time nanami returns, you’re not surprised by his blonde hair, possibly a descendant of european blood, but had been born and raised in japan. it wasn’t uncommon, but it felt like he was such a specific ethnicity with the features he had. you’re right when you’re out with nanami a few weeks later, learning his grandfather was danish, smiling as he talked about his family.
it was by chance that he got into the racing scene, getting acquainted with gojo briefly because he was always infuriating in class — but then the both of them began to grow out of high school and entered university, introducing nanami to both geto, gojo’s best friend and to racing. it had made an impression on his heart immediately, reluctantly asking to ride in gojo’s car as they sped through the night and then trying his hand at it later.
“so geto-san was the one who taught you how to drift?” you ask from the passenger seat, a calm atmosphere surrounding the two of you as nanami takes you out for a casual drive along the freeway, bringing you to his favourite place to drift ever since he’s trained there. it was a clean ascent once he reaches the mountain, jogging over to open the door for you before sticking out a hand.
“thank you… kento,” you feel his hand tighten around yours, bringing you around to the front before leaning on the front of the car with you, the jangle of the bracelet he’s got you making noises when he pulls you into his side. it’s been a month with him, yet he already feels so committed, albeit stoic.
but you realise, in the midst of it, you’re the only one who can manage to pry a smile out of him, the lines on his face fading away when he picks you up from your dad’s shop. the loud engine is always an indicator, greeting him at the door of the garage as your father sends you off with a grin, leaning into the driver’s seat to press a peck through the window.
“when you say my name like that,” nanami mumbles, appreciating the scene with his lips in your hair; and while nanami is all soft and gentle with you, sometimes his carnal instincts get the best of him and he says the filthiest things, unprompted, “it makes me want to eat you out on the hood of my car again.”
you roll your eyes with a smile, because you’ve already done it twice: one in the shop and another in a secluded car park, but you know nanami hasn’t glutted his appetite for you yet, and he makes sure you know he never will.
✶ TOJI
the drabble previously mentioned how you were a little older megumi — through tutoring megumi, you met toji. it was a chance encounter sort of, u put up an ad at the end of your second year of uni since the winter break was a little longer than usual, so you decided to earn a bit of pocket money thru tutoring in the one subject you were most comfortable in: humanities. the syllabus in schools nowadays has become harder too, even going as far as to research papers and then scoff in disgust at the intensity of the questions lol … it’s routine in the school system to do that, gearing up for the questions you might be asked when u first get an enquiry call on the line. you hang up with a time and address and when u reach megumi opens the door, but toji emerges from his man cave (garage. hes obsessed w/ his corvette) later and jesus christ hes (almost) six foot of pure dilf that youre considering sidling up to him instead LMAO. esp with how the house looked, it wouldnt be so bad being a old man’s bitch
the doorbell you rang reverberates throughout the house, albeit a bit muffled, but the door opens quickly and you’re met with a black spiky-haired kid, who looks a few years younger than you. but megumi didn’t really need an introduction, because you’re pointing it out to him once inside.
“aren’t you the kid that got suspended for beating up gang members?” sometimes his seniors never knew when to shut up. to this, megumi just sighs.
“yep, that’s me. i told you my name over the phone but,” he extends a hand, “i’m fushiguro megumi.”
you hum and take his hand, introducing yourself as well before a thud makes you snap your head to the noise, where a larger and taller man emerges from the door that connects the living room to the garage. he has features similar to megumi’s and he’s currently clutching his toe, stubbing it on the cabinet on his way out and cursing his head off.
it isn’t difficult to match name to face for him as well, remembering a report you did on the increasingly popular racing scene starting up again. don’t ask — it was a pretty open assignment and you didn’t hesitate to write about the culture back then, something you always wished you lived in.
now, you’re not too taken aback by casually stumbling across fushiguro toji’s home, but more of how he managed to maintain his physique for so many years. if there’s anything your research told you, he was more on the lanky side in his twenties, the right side of his mouth clear from the scar while dominating the drifting scene back in the 80s.
“who’re you, kid?” a little annoyed at the name but you open your mouth to introduce yourself, and toji nods, although confused. it seems like he’s not too involved in megumi’s grades, because when you tell him megumi himself had called you over a bad grade in literature and social studies, his expression drops into an ‘o’. 
“ah, i would’ve taught him myself but…” you knew he dropped out of high school before, living a crap life trying to pay off debts his father had left him and turning to racing and winning bets to make a living out of it. it was scary how this information was so accessible to you via one of his interviews, but you can tell he’s put it long before him, choosing to focus on raising megumi and maintaining his corvette.
“make yourself at home, alright, doll?” doll. you stutter out an affirmative reply.
though when he said that, you hadn’t imagined wandering into the same door he had came out of before. he was probably checking on the condition of his car, knees protruding out of the corvette’s side as he rolls out on the creeper at the sound of someone approaching. you didn’t wish to do this, truly, but when some kids from megumi’s school had attempted to play a prank by picking toji’s lock to get back at megumi, the latter had discovered them after coming out the side door.
needless to say, megumi still holds up his reputation, chasing them down for more than three blocks (it was seven) before proceeding to, you assume, beat them up. you imagine it’s routine for toji at this point, but you still want to at least let him know.
“he’s off again?” toji sits up after hearing your explanation, using the wrench to scratch his temple. sure, he’s only like twenty years older than you — it certainly doesn’t stop you from checking out how his muscles bulge against his compression shirt, or the grey sweatpants he’d got on that you told yourself not to peep at. “don’t mind the kid, i’ll lecture him when he returns later.”
he sighs and grumbles under his breath, expecting you to leave, and when you don’t he just raises an eyebrow, a silent prompt for you to explain what else you needed. you only pointed to the hood. 
“uh… toji-san, if you’re keen on getting back into racing,” toji fully stands up to his height, curious on what you have to say, but also wondering how much balls you had to talk about racing in front of him, “you should really change your 283 cubic-inch V8 to a 327. i, uh, heard the specifications on the new engine has better fuel delivery and horsepower.”
toji relaxes when you actually know your crap, not wanting to deal with another annoying fan begging him to get back into racing, although you’re not entirely off the hook. “and why should i listen to you, hm, doll?”
he stands there, unimpressed, but you didn’t research cars like a madman for nothing. it was a rabbit hole you had commended yourself for diving into, too, because you always had wanted to start, just, how? and that changed when you finally had the opportunity to delve into the complicated world of cars with the help of your friend’s dad who was a mechanic. “um… you really don’t. just giving some pointers, or at least, recommendations that go well with your ’66 corvette.”
oh my god? you know the exact year his chevrolet was released too?
the ex-racer only nods slowly, keeping it in mind for the next time he has the time to switch to an updated engine, but he didn’t expect help to come from your hands the next time, working under the hood like a professional while still leaving the heavy lifting to him. you had fun each time in the garage, exchanging intel and geeking about cars while you both open up to each other — all under the guise of tutoring his son.
since then, toji has taken his corvette out to meet you more than he takes it out for errands, meeting you with a promise that he would take care of your university fees. but none of the time spent with you would’ve warned him that you two would be changing his next engine, too, except that maybe, you were finally his girl.
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why does toji’s always end up the longest bye. also this is the only req i’ve gotten, i swear i don’t bite guys. ♡ thirsts and drabble requests are open!
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bookyeom · 3 months
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pairing: s.coups x reader word count: 4.8k warnings: a couple of swears i think, kissing, people being bad friends and treating reader badly :(, a tiny bit of poor self-esteem on reader's end but not much, seungcheol gets a lil mad at one point but it's nothing crazy
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Author's Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it's not necessary.
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pov by ariana grande
i wanna love me the way that you love me for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too i'd love to see me from your point of view cause nobody ever loved me like you do
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You feel like you’ve been subject to an intervention.
You’d come over to pick up a sweater you’d left at Jeonghan’s, and now you’re sitting on his couch while both him and Soonyoung stare at you, arms crossed. You have the distinct feeling that you’re being judged. 
“You’re here early,” Jeonghan finally says, and you immediately don’t like the tone of his voice. 
“Yeah,” you say, slowly. “Junseok couldn’t make it last minute, so I just came straight here.” You don’t miss the look that passes between Jeonghan and Soonyoung, and you inwardly groan in preparation when you realize what’s about to come.
”Wow, he canceled?” Soonyoung says, sarcastic as ever.
“We’re so surprised,” Jeonghan follows, and you roll your eyes. 
“Things happen,” you try, but your friends don’t even flinch. 
“Yeah, they always seem to happen with him in particular, especially when you guys have plans. Poor guy.” 
“Come on. Stop.”
Jeonghan smacks you on the arm, and you yelp. “He’s such a dick, Y/N. Break up with him.”
“We’re not dating! I’ve told you a million times that we’re just friends.”
“Does the fact that you’re just friends justify how he treats you?” Soonyoung asks, and that hits you, hard. Your shoulders slump, and Soonyoung sits next to you on the couch.
“He’s just forgetful,” you murmur, but even as you say the words, you don’t really believe them yourself. 
“Hoshi is the most scatterbrained person I’ve ever met,” Jeonghan points out, “and even he remembers plans.”
The man in question appears offended for a brief moment, before quickly brightening up at the end of Jeonghan’s statement. “Yeah,” he nods solemnly in agreement. “I sometimes forget my sentences half way through. If I can remember making plans with my friends, so can he.”
You remain silent. You know they’re right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“You know who else never cancels on you, at least not without a solid explanation?”
You know where this is going, but you’re definitely going to pretend that you don’t. “Joshua? Seokmin? Love those guys. Truly the most loyal companions and —“
“Seungcheol not only sticks to plans, he also makes them with you first,” Jeonghan continues on, interrupting you, not even batting an eye as he ignores your pouting. 
“And he’d probably rather poke his own eye out than cancel on you,” Hoshi supplies.
“He’s my friend,” you protest weakly. “Do you mean you guys wouldn’t gauge an eye out on my behalf?”
“No,” the two men opposite you answer at the same time, and you sink back into your seat with a huff. 
“DK would,” you mumble.
“Yeah, but — bless his stupid ass — he’d do that for any of us,” Hoshi points out. “Seungcheol, on the other hand, thought it was funny to lock me out of the bathroom when I was hungover and needed to throw up last Saturday morning.” 
“Okay, but Cheol told me that you spilled a bottle of vodka all over his new laptop while you were drunk and tried to cover it up,” you counter. Hoshi opens his mouth to retort, but Jeonghan cuts him off. 
“Last week, he canceled lunch with Mingyu and I just because he didn’t want to get out of bed.”
“He had an exam the night before!” you protest, quickly jumping to Seungcheol’s defense in his absence. “For a really hard class, too! He was telling me about it when he came over to study.” The two men stare back at you pointedly, and you feel your cheeks flush. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jeonghan simply smiles, and it unsettles you. “Just that I’ve known Seungcheol for three years and I’ve never, not even once, seen him willingly study with someone else. He always talks about needing to focus alone.”
You feel a blush creeping up your neck, and try valiantly to hide it with your turtleneck sweater. “Maybe you guys are just annoying.”
“Or maybe he’s in love with you,” Soonyoung pipes up, a wide grin on his face, and you let out a whine. 
“Stop,” you plead as the two of them high-five. 
“You and Seungcheol are so annoying. If we’re talking about good ‘friends’,” Jeonghan puts quotation marks in the air around the word as he says it, “he should be at the top of your list. That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.”
”Are you saying you don't care about me?”
You’re trying to change the subject, and Jeonghan knows it. He glares at you. “We care about you enough to try and knock some sense into you, don’t we?”
“I’m leaving,” you announce, pushing yourself off the sofa, sweater in hand. 
“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out as you pass through the threshold. “Can you take this, too?” He appears a second later as you’re tying your shoes, holding out a pair of socks. You raise an eyebrow in question. “They’re Cheol’s,” he explains. “I can almost guarantee you’re going to see him before I do.”
“How do you know that, Jeonghan?” 
“When are you guys hanging out next?”
You squint at your friend for a moment, before you begrudgingly take the socks from his hand. “Tomorrow morning,” you murmur. You pointedly ignore Jeonghan’s laughter as you all but slam the door behind you. 
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“How was yesterday?”
“Hm?” You hum through a mouthful of food, glancing back up at Seungcheol. 
You’re sitting across from him at your favourite cafe. It had been silent since your food arrived and you’d both shut up to shovel food into your mouths, so you’re surprised when he speaks up. You also have no idea what he’s referring to.
“You hung out with Junseok last night, right?” Seungcheol asks, and you wince.
“Oh,” you manage. “No, we didn’t end up getting together.”
Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate, clicking his tongue as he brings his coffee mug up to his lips. “Asshole.”
“Cheol.”
“What? He’s an asshole.” He sets his coffee down again, elbows on the table as he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Did he cancel, or did you?”
You look back down at your food. “He did.”
Seungcheol simply nods, crossing his arms as he leans against the back of the booth. You’re reminded again of just how big his arms have gotten lately, and you try to shake the thoughts before your gaze lingers just a bit too long. “Of course he did.”
“He’s trying,” you mumble miserably, knowing it sounds lame, even to yourself. “He’s getting better at following through.”
The man in front of you raises his eyebrows. “Is he?”
“You’re being a dick.”
“I’m just telling the truth.” Seungcheol shrugs. “Why do you even like him?”
“I don’t like him like that anymore,” you mutter. “I haven't for a while. It was a dumb crush, Cheol, you know that. We’re friends now.”
Seungcheol scoffs. “Okay, well, I’m your friend too. And as your friend, I’m telling you – he’s an asshole.”
This time, you don’t offer a rebuttal. You fall silent, pushing the eggs around on your plate. You can feel Seungcheol watching you, and you can practically hear his defenses lowering the longer you stay quiet. Usually, you can keep up with his banter and sass, but you know he can tell that you’re actually upset now. You’re tired of arguing. Deep down, you know he’s right, and you don’t have it in you to meet his gaze.
“Somebody who cares about you wouldn’t do stuff like that, friend or otherwise,” he finally speaks again, his voice softer now. “I know it sucks… but sometimes, it really is that simple.”
“Yeah,” is all you say. 
“Hey.”
You make yourself look at him again, offering him as much of a smile as you can. 
He smiles back, soft. “People care about you, okay?” 
You nod. The longer he looks at you, the more you start to feel that electric current, that low buzzing that seems to take over your entire body whenever Seungcheol is close. Jeonghan’s words linger in the back of your mind as he finally looks away, breaking the tension between the two of you.
That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.
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You hate how downright… silly you feel.
”He promised he’d make it this time,” you sniffle, and Seokmin squeezes you tighter into his side. “He even booked the tickets. Why would you book the tickets and then cancel on the day of?”
“Once a liar, always a liar,” Jeonghan calls out from his kitchen. 
“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” Seungcheol agrees. He’s leaning against the doorframe that separates the kitchen from the living room, and you don’t know why it hurts a little that he hasn’t tried to comfort you at all since you walked in. His comment only serves to upset you more, and you glare at him.
“Are you happy?”
Seungcheol blinks in surprise, turning back to you from where he was watching Jeonghan in the kitchen. “What?”
”Are you happy that you’re right? Do you feel good about it, Cheol?” You can feel Seokmin pat your shoulder comfortingly, but it doesn’t help — you’re annoyed now.
”What are you even talking about, Y/N?”
“You’re right — he’s an asshole. You’re right. You love being right, don’t you?”
The silence is almost palpable. Jeonghan has stopped moving in the kitchen, Seokmin is frozen next to you, and you can cut the tension in the room with a knife. Seokmin slowly moves to stand up, heading into the kitchen with Jeonghan, leaving the two of you alone.
“It’s not about being right,” Seungcheol finally says, and you avoid his gaze when he joins you on the couch. “All I care about is the fact that he should treat you better.”
Seungcheol’s tone leaves no room for argument, and you can feel your shoulders sag. You know that he’s right — and you hate it. 
“I know,” you admit, and all of your misplaced anger drains from you in seconds. “I know he should,” you repeat, feeling your remaining defenses start to crumble. “So why won’t he?” 
You say the last words so quietly that you’re surprised anyone hears you, but you know that at least Seungcheol has when his shoulders fall. You hear him inhale a breath, but you speak again before he gets a chance to say anything.
“I just don’t understand why I’m not worth the effort.” You can hear your voice crack, followed by silence, and then — you break. The tears are falling before you can stop them. You feel the couch shift as Seungcheol turns. Whatever hesitation he’d had about comforting you before seems to ease up as his hand finds your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. You’re grateful, but you still can’t look at him.
“What about the people who do treat you well?” His tone is softer now, but you can tell he’s still upset by the tone of his voice. You don’t have a chance to answer before he speaks again. “I could tell you a million times how great I think you are, I could make a thousand plans to hang out, I could go on and on about how much I like being around you… but nothing will change until you figure out a way to believe me. I—“ He clears his throat. “We— care about you so much. All of us. We should be the people that matter.”
“But what did I do wrong? With him?”
Seungcheol’s hand on your thigh is gone in a flash. He stands up, and you miss his warmth immediately. “I don’t know what else to say,” he says, voice low. He’s angry, you can tell, but he would never admit to it. 
You want to apologize, desperate to bring him back to you, but you’re frozen. 
“I’m going to head out.” He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t look back at you. Jeonghan and Seokmin appear from the kitchen, but no one says anything except for a ‘drive safe’, and then he’s gone.
It’s silent for a moment, and then you say, “I fucked up.”
To your surprise, Jeonghan doesn’t scold or tease you. He doesn’t even agree. Seokmin disappears back into the kitchen to tend to the food Jeonghan was cooking, but Jeonghan himself joins you on the couch with a sigh.
“Listen,” Jeonghan starts. “You and I are similar — we always tend to focus on the people that don’t care. We want to be loved, so when someone doesn’t put in as much effort as us, we feel like we have to figure out why. We want to know what we did wrong, even though we didn’t do anything wrong at all. We forget that there are tons of people that love us a lot already. I love you, for example.” Jeonghan pinches your thigh affectionately, before he juts his thumb in the direction of your front door. ”Or what about that guy? The one who just left my apartment, pissed, because you let someone make you question your worth? He cares about you without thinking twice. For him, it’s effortless. You’re worth it, and you’ve never had to prove that to us. You just are, and always have been.”
You’re officially crying now. You know you’ve really upset Seungcheol, and you know your friends are all right. You know it, you know they love you and you love them, but why don’t you believe that you deserve it?
“I should go home,” you say softly, but your hand squeezes Jeonghan’s in acknowledgement, in a quiet thanks.
“I won’t say anything else except for this,” Jeonghan says gently. “I know you think Cheol is worth it, too. Being with someone doesn’t always have to feel like effort.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s effortless.”
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You spend the next week thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until the ball drops and you finally just do it. You block Junseok on every social media, you delete his number, and you’re proud of yourself for it. You don’t message your friends back very much throughout the week. Seungcheol in particular has been radio silent, but you suppose you deserve that. You don’t reach out first, instead taking the time to process everything that’s happened, to process everything you’re feeling — and not just about Junseok. 
You know that Seungcheol has always meant a little bit more to you than anyone else. Now, you’re wondering why you’ve never done anything about it — and you’re also wondering just how long you’ve been blind to the fact that Seungcheol most likely, almost definitely, likes you back. 
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Y/N [5:36pm]: early Galentines dinner at my place this Sunday at 7?
You receive an almost immediate thumbs up from Seokmin and Soonyoung.
Hannie [5:43pm]: yaaaaas
Wonu [5:44pm]: might be a bit late but I’ll be there 
Kwanie [5:52pm]: NOOOOO I’m busy :(
Kwanie [5:52pm]: galentines?? WITHOUT ME????? UNBELIEVABLE
You smile at that, texting Seungkwan a private apology in a separate chat. Your heart jumps in your chest when you receive another notification, and you’re filled with relief so quick and intense that it feels like you’ve been doused in water.
Cheollie [5:58pm]: I’ll be there. Cheollie [5:58pm]: need help setting up?
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You hug Seungcheol the second he walks through your door. He reciprocates, and you feel relieved and anxious and warm and fuzzy all at once.
Now, a half hour has passed, and neither of you have mentioned what happened the week before. He tells you about his week at work, and you hate the small talk but you know it’s all just the road back into the familiar ease of your friendship — so you participate. It’s only when you’ve finished getting ready for dinner, Valentine’s Day decorations and lights all strung up and ready to go, that he speaks up again. You’re preparing tea for the two of you when he catches you entirely off guard. 
“Will Junseok be joining us tonight?”
You can feel your shoulders tense up. You can tell that it pains him to say it, but you also know he’s the brave one for even bringing it up. You take a deep breath. 
“He’s not coming tonight, or any other night, actually.”
Seungcheol seems surprised as he hands you a mug from the cupboard before grabbing one for himself. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
You shrug. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really.”
Seungcheol’s eyes follow you as you move across the kitchen to the kettle, pausing before speaking again. “I can tell.”
You turn back to him as you click the kettle on to boil, an eyebrow raised in his direction. “Was that sarcastic?”
The man smiles as he shakes his head. “No, I mean it. You seem happier than...” He trails off, but you both know what he’s thinking: than when I saw you last.
“I am,” you reply honestly, and it’s silent again for a moment before you both start to speak at the same time.
“Listen, I–”
“Hey, Cheol–”
You can feel warmth start to spread through you when he begins to laugh at your clumsiness — it had only been a week, but you’d missed that. You’d missed him. 
“You first,” you offer, and he nods.
“I’m sorry that I was frustrated when I left the other day,” he says, and you tilt your head in surprise at his apology. He shrugs before continuing, “I shouldn’t have left like that… but in my defense, I didn’t know you’d disappear for a week.” He’s joking, and you smile a bit at that.
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Cheol.” He joins you at the counter and you begin to pour hot water into both mugs, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you can feel him next to you. It suddenly all feels so intimate, the way you’re making tea for him the way he likes it without him saying a word, the way he watches you move around in your kitchen as if he does it every day. 
You turn to hand him his tea and when your eyes meet his, you feel a flush begin to creep up your neck to find him already looking back.
“I mean it,” you say softly, and he hums in response, eyebrows raising as he takes a sip and waits for you to continue. “I really am sorry for not being around the last couple of weeks.” You hop up onto the counter, legs dangling off of it as you wait for your tea to cool. 
Seungcheol sets his mug down on the counter and sends you a soft smile, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “It’s okay. I get it.”
You nod, looking down, and pick at a thread on your jeans. “Thanks,” you say quietly, but he knows you’re not finished speaking. His eyes don’t leave your face, and his fingers still grip onto the handle of his mug as he waits, ever patient, for you to gather your thoughts. “I’m still sorry, though. I was just so overwhelmed and didn’t want to deal with it, so I let everything build up to a breaking point.”
“I promise it’s okay,” Seungcheol repeats. He’s being genuine — you can hear it in his voice. Your eyes meet his again, and you almost wish they hadn’t because you have more to say, and you might lose all of the courage left in you if he keeps looking at you like that. 
“Just… Just let me explain,” you request quietly, and he nods again. “I… I guess I just needed a bit of time to myself. To figure out what’s important to me.” You pause, choosing your next words carefully. “To figure out who is important to me.” 
You can feel your cheeks flush as you finish. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you this whole time, and you think your heart is in your throat now as he continues to gaze at you.
“Yeah?” 
Does he understand what you’re implying? Your eyes move to land on the dark strand of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. You suddenly feel a desperate need to reach out, to brush his hair back, to touch it. To touch him. Would he let you? Does he want that, too?
“Yeah,” you finally repeat, your quiet voice matching his as you meet his gaze again.
He moves then, slowly, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off, shifting closer and reaching across your legs to set his mug in the sink. Your breath catches in your throat as he straightens back up in front of you, his now-empty hand falling to the counter beside your thigh. He’s standing right in front of you, caging you in between his arms, and you can’t look away.
“And what’s the verdict?” Comes his question, dark eyes searching yours.
“That I should start to focus more on the people that show me they care. Because those are the ones that I care about the most, too.” 
The tension in the air is palpable. 
Then his fingers gently, tentatively, brush against yours where they rest on the counter. He doesn’t do anything more, testing the waters, and it takes everything in you not to shiver. His gaze falls to your mouth, and you hold your breath — then he looks down and away from you, his eyes squeezing shut, and the moment is lost.
“Cheol?” You say carefully, desperate to get him to look at you again. He hums in response, but he doesn’t look up. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you feel like if you don’t say what you want to say right now, you never will. “Thank you.”
That seems to get his attention as he lifts his head to meet your gaze once more. You can tell he’s surprised as he murmurs, “For what?”
“For being here.” You’re not sure if that’s what you meant to say, or how you meant to say it, because it sounds far too simple for how you feel about the man in front of you. And then he smiles.
“Of course,” comes his reply. You watch as his smile grows and he says, “I was told there would be free beer.”
You blink at him for a moment, processing — and then you let out a single, surprised laugh. You feel some sense of relief wash over you as the tension between you breaks a little, as everything around you seems to soften. You feel a little bit like you’re glowing from the inside out, warm and fuzzy like the pink heart-shaped lights strung up around your apartment, and you wonder if he feels it, too. You’re starting to think that maybe he does.
“Cheol,” you say, and you offhandedly wonder why you’re saying his name so much. He grows serious again, but the lighter air between the pair of you gives you just enough confidence to continue. “I don’t just mean today,” you elaborate, your voice soft. You feel vulnerable now, even more than before, your eyes falling to your lap. “You’re always there when I need you, and even sometimes when I think that I don’t.” Seungcheol laughs quietly at that. “It means a lot to me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “You mean a lot to me.” 
When you look up, you find him gazing back, and you abruptly realize that he’s moved even closer. The fingers that were playing with yours move up to your waist, and your entire body reacts to the warmth of his palm. 
“Is this okay?” He murmurs, a quiet question that threatens to overwhelm you. He’s making sure that you want this just as much as he does. It sends a shiver down your spine.
“More than okay,” you affirm. His mouth lifts at the sides, dimples just peeking through. Again, you think that there’s something more that you wanted to say, but your breath is caught in your throat and he’s just so… beautiful.
“I…” He trails off, and you watch as his eyebrows furrow. You’re desperate to be even closer as you wait, closing the final space between you to press your forehead to his. “It was so hard not talking to you this week,” is what finally he says, and though he hasn’t said much, you think you understand. 
I missed you. That’s what he’s trying to say.
You desperately want to communicate to him that you won’t leave him like that again, that you don’t plan on going anywhere, that the last seven days away from him sucked just as much for you. In a bold move, you ease your legs apart, leaving room for him to stand between them. Your calf moves to hook behind his knee, tapping against him in a silent request for him to come even closer. You hope he understands — that you want him close like this, that you missed him more than you think he realizes.
He seems to understand you just fine.
He easily fills the space you made for him, his chest nearly flush against yours now. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze, and you inhale a shaky breath as he brushes his nose against yours. Your hands have found his shoulders, grasping onto the material of his sweater, and his eyes fall shut.
The same, pesky strand of hair is falling into his eyes again, and you’re pretty certain that given your current position, you’re allowed to do something about it now. So you do, lifting a hand to gently brush it back and over his forehead, gaze following the movement. His eyes open at the touch, and a whisper of your name brings you back to him. 
The moment you lock eyes again, he’s leaning forward to capture your mouth with his. 
Your hand falls from his forehead to his bicep as you gasp into the kiss, as you try and process. When you do, when you realize what’s finally happening, you can’t get enough. You’re pulling him in so close that you feel a bit feral, your fingers pressing into his arms, his back, one hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You can tell he’s not faring much better than you as he chases your lips relentlessly, as he pulls you into him so close that you can’t feel anything but him. 
When you finally need to breathe, your hands find his face. You pull back, eyes taking him in as he lets out a breath, like he can’t believe what’s just happened, either. He looks at you, and you look back, and you have no idea what to say or do — until suddenly, you’re beaming. You can’t help it as you pull him back in for one long, slow kiss, grin wide against his mouth, your hand moving again to the back of his neck. He’s smiling, too — your favourite smile of his, the one that’s completely, entirely genuine — and when he pulls away only to bury his face in your neck this time, you can feel the smile against your skin.
“Fuck, I’m in love with you.”
It’s quiet, whispered against your skin, but you hear it. Your fingers pause their trail up and down his back. You move his face back up to look at him, your eyes searching his, desperate to know if you heard him right. “Cheol?”
He kisses you again, once, twice, so slow and soft that it makes your head spin. “I love you,” he says, breathless against your lips. He waits for you as you let it sink in, his hands firm on your waist, eyes boring into yours so you know that he means it. 
You believe him.
“I love you too,” you whisper, foreheads moving to rest against each other once more. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s okay.”
He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating. You’re certain that yours isn’t doing much better.
“I do have a question though,” he says after a few moments pass, and you hum, urging him to go on. “You said you were going to spend more time with the people that care about you, right?” 
You move back to look at him and tilt your head in question. “Yes?”
“I’m guessing that includes Jeonghan and Hoshi and the boys,” Seungcheol muses, and you nod, your eyebrows raising. Then he pouts, and you sputter out a laugh.
“What’s that face for? They’re your friends, too!”
Seungcheol huffs. “Yes, but if you meant that you’re going to kiss them like that, too, then –”
You clap a hand over his mouth. “Ew!”
The man in front of you has a shit-eating grin on his face now, and you remove your hand. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“Trust me,” you shudder, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about kissing.”
“You’ve thought about it, huh?”
You look up at him, smacking his chest. “Shut up!”
“Don’t worry, I’ve thought about it too.” When he moves to kiss you again, you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Speaking of our friends,” you tease, “they’re literally going to be here any second. You have permission to kiss me as much as you want to later, okay?”
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A/N: here it is! The first of our Thirteen Valentines. I have to be honest, I got a little carried away with this one... I'll put out a full disclaimer that not all of the fics will be this long! Seungcheol has a solid grip on me and I couldn't do anything about it, you guys.
Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda
994 notes · View notes
anadiasmount · 3 months
Text
love struck - jude blurb.
request: yes! mix of my imagination and also @judesecret as well! 🤍
“you’re shivering, baby,” jude laughs, wrapping the towel around your body and rubbing his hands in your shoulders to warm you up. he pulls you into his chest, feeling great warmth. and beat from his embrace as you close your eyes and relish the feeling. you ignore the small nickname, still not used to the fresh relationship with jude.
“i-i-i know. i didn’t-t-t see the r-rain coming,” you say giggling, wiping your nose with the towel as you felt a water drop run along the skin. “you’re crazy, you know? walking in this storm just to show me the new minion movie trailer?” jude teases, resting his head on yours as you finally stop shivering from cold.
“despicable me four, actually,” you correct him, hiding in the crook of his neck embarrassed. “and, to see you before i travel to germany for a work trip,” you say shyly, leaning back to stare at his brown iris who shined even in the dark corner by the entrance.
“gonna miss me that much?” jude asks, kissing your nose, making you nod slowly and intimidated at the proximity of both of you. “gonna miss you too. wish you could stay here with me since our next game is here at home…” jude replies.
he could sense the nervousness, chuckling deeply before pulling away. “how about we have a movie marathon, tonight? i’m off tomorrow and i wanna spend the night here with my girl,” he says walking to the kitchen to retrieve something. you furrow your brows in confusing or maybe coming to the fact on what he said.
“you mean like spend the night over? like a sleepover?” you say walking to the kitchen, wrapping the towel tighter against you.
“only if you’re comfortable with it. i don’t want to rush you or make you feel uncomfortable,” jude says, knowing you. he knows how new the relationship is, and the last thing he wanted was to scare you away because of how shy and reserved you were. “if you start snoring i’m out though,” you joke agreeing to his suggestion, earning cheering of yes from jude.
“cmon let’s get you showered and changed.”
jude handed you some of his clothes as you took a hot and steamy shower. you let your mind wander to tonight and how it would play out. it would be the first time you spent the night at his. when you came over it was for the evening and to hangout but staying over was always out of the picture.
you could barely look him in the eye without feeling your head spin or get shy under his gaze. you’d drown yourself with his smile and big brown eyes. if he asked you to do anything, you would do it with no hesitation. he had a spell or daze that always drew you in no matter what.
jude would always be the one to initiate hand holding, hugs, even kisses. you appreciated him so much for that feeling nervous or overall giddy because you couldn’t believe he was actually yours. if he sensed you were nervous he would kiss your hands to distract you from whatever you thought.
out in public, jude gave you a small peck on the lips to reassure you he was here for you, not once leaving your side, letting you have the say when you wanted to call it a night. he kept you at your side, protecting you from anyone who wanted to be quick and jump at you. “you’re like my bodyguard,” you often joked earning a laugh from him.
you don’t know what changed, one minute you guys laughed and spoke quietly as you made a fresh cup of chocolate, eyes gleaming in happiness as you got to spend the night with him. feeling better then cuddled up quietly as you watched the movies, to now where you sat on the edge of the bed bitting your nails anxiously.
jude had finished taking a shower and brushing his teeth. he walked in and saw you sitting on his bed, shaking his head in amusement as you looked down not being able to meet his eye when he returned shirtless, abs in full show. jude caged you in on the bed, arms locking you in side to side as your eyes connected.
“what are you think about?” jude whispers making you clear your throat and smile. “how lucky i am to have a boyfriend who takes care of me,” you say hiding the anticipation and urge to kiss him first. jude smiles looking down after couple seconds of silence.
your hands cup his face, just above his jaw making jude look back up rapidly, seeing your flushed face and bottom lip bit. “baby what are-”
you cut him off with a rushed and urged kiss. closing your eyes sinking into his taste as your lips molded with his. it took jude a while to process what was going on, not believing you had finally initiated and kissed him first. he could feel your hands slowly fall onto the nape of his neck. jude’s stomach filled with butterflies, the chilling sensation running down his spine as he tasted your sweet taste.
jude kisses your further, making you let out a small whine and kiss him deeper, clashing teeth as you moved your head slightly. you felt the fire run along your veins, getting dizzy from how jude was kissing you, jude the same. he got nervous all of the sudden due to the fact you weren’t being all hidden away, letting you be in charge.
the two of you let out breaths, the room filling with the sound of your kissing and noises you made. jude got lost, lost in how you tasted, how you kissed him with urgency yet love, lost in how much he loved this new side of you. he wanted it all, more with you.
jude pulled away, out of breath and panting, lips red and plump from the kiss. you giggled resting your foreheads together processing what had just happened. you finally did it, what you wanted to do for a while. “you kissed me first,” jude said licking his lips making you squirm.
your hands traced his cheeks, feeling a sense of confidence inside you. “i know… been wanting to do it for a while,” you confess watching jude’s eyes go crazy in bewilderment and lust. he couldn’t believe it, his shy girl wasn’t so shy, and he was sure he fell even more in love with you. jude smirked kissing the inner part of your wrist before speaking up again.
“wanna show me again? i think i forgot how it felt…”
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miinatozakiii · 6 months
Text
dreamer girl
hirai momo x fem!reader ; smut ; wc: 5.4k
synopsis: momo has a sex dream which has her rethinking her roles in bed, it even makes her realize she’s into a lot of things she thought she would never be intrigued with.
warnings: smut with no plot i just wanted her crying (^‿^) ; kink discovery!!! ; almost somnophilia?? ; reader being called “miss” and “ma’am” ; mommy kink ; overstimulation kinda ; bondage ; ummmmm did i miss anything ; momo is a bottom!!! ; whipped momo ; kinda filthy idk i got carried away ; cursing lolll
a/n: the first half of this was written right before i fell asleep i apologize, but it gets better (i think)
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momo was always known to be the more dominant girlfriend, not that it was explicitly said or anything—she just had that rep.
to be fair, it was true. her hand would be on your waist when you were out together, ensuring that everyone knew you were hers. she’d drive you everywhere and you were content being her passenger princess, enjoying the occasional squeeze and caress of your thigh every now and then. typical pillow princeess, spoiled, and bottom girlfriend treatment—you loved it.
it was safe to say that momo wore the pants in the relationship, but she was a sucker for you behind closed doors. you’d pamper her endlessly and to your amusement; she’s incredibly easy to fluster.
now, what’s also behind closed doors is what happens in bed (and on the couch, the kitchen counter—pretty much any space in your house where you can be held against—basically anywhere, but bedroom can be used as an umbrella term in this case.) momo can be pretty versatile when it comes to sex; she can be the sweetest soul ever, whispering sweet nothings and endless praises while her fingers pound into you ruthlessly. there are also moments where she’ll be holding you by the throat and making you scream, teasing you endlessly and degrading the hell out of you while stripping your orgasm away, she loves the control she has over you in bed and she knows you like it. momo loves it.
most of the time—if not all the time—momo is in charge when in bed and sure, maybe you’ll finger her or eat her out here and there, but it’s usually her taking the lead, always pleasing you.
momo is content that you easily submit to her and you’re fine with letting her ruin you; after all, no one else can do it like her. momo’s pretty content with this dynamic, she’s never had to think twice about it.
not until recently.
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momo does not know how she had gotten here, there’s no memory that had led up to this moment.
you’re sitting on the couch with the tank top that momo adores on you and it shows a bit of your stomach, your collarbones, and your toned arms; your girlfriend is all worked up just from the sight of you like this.
momo is on the ground—on her knees—and your gaze is lowered down on her. your eyes hold a strange allure, something lustful, and hungry; momo feels small in the position she’s in, she’s never seen you like this, but fuck does it make her all nervous seeing you in this new light. she ignores the discomfort building up on her knees as she kneels before you.
“you look so pathetic like this.” you say, voice low and dangerously sweet, opposing your words. momo whimpers unintentionally and you laugh at her. “i haven’t even touched you yet, don’t tell me you’re all riled up from this?”
“i— no,”
you grab her face so her cheeks are squeezed between your thumb and the rest of your fingers, her lips squish a bit and she lets out a small, nasally whine.
your jaw tightens and you correct her, “no miss.”
momo is not used to this side of you—not used to you being so stern—but holy shit she’s entranced. her body tenses up and she gulps lightly.
“s-sorry miss…”
you loosen your grip. “that’s more like it.”
momo’s breath quivers when you rub her bottom lip with your thumb, pushing it down slightly while looking at her with a lidded, lust-filled stare.
“i wanna have my way with you, you’ll let me do that, yeah?”
“yes miss, whatever you’d like.” momo responds almost immediately; it comes out rushed and breathless. you giggle at this adorable, needy version of momo.
“what a good girl…” you coo, “let’s go to the bedroom, yeah? rather i’d make a mess out of you there than here.” you say, and momo nods eagerly.
when the two of you make it to the bedroom, you quickly order her to take off the shirt she has on. your girlfriend is quick to follow your commands, and when you tell her to lie down on the bed she does as told.
you walk up towards her then situate yourself so you’re straddling her, your core just barely making contact with hers. leaning over, you press a kiss to her forehead and back away, bringing your hand up to her face to cup her chin.
“you look so adorable, baby.” you mumble, sliding your hand down her neck slowly. momo’s tummy hitches when you trace down to her collarbone and she moans softly. just before you trail down to the prominent line that separates the muscles at her core—
momo wakes up, a sharp breath slipping past her lips.
she blinks once, twice, then shifts in the bed. her eyes are squinty when she opens them despite the room being pretty dim.
there’s a weight on her shoulder and she turns to see you sleeping peacefully, feeling the soft breaths you let out on her neck and the way your chest heaves up and down against her. you shift closer to her in your slumber, lazily draping your arm across her torso and snuggling her like a teddy bear.
your girlfriend smiles softly and kisses you on the forehead groggily before closing her eyes again, she almost forgets about the thrilling dream before she falls asleep.
almost.
momo spends a minute or two replaying the scene in her head. she hates to admit it, but the thought of her submitting to you turns her on more than she’d figure it would and makes her ponder for a while before she actually falls asleep. she thinks about the way you looked at her, how you called her a “good girl,” and the tone of your voice. after a couple of minutes of her furrowing her brows, shifting her hips around, and trying to shake off the thought of you being all commanding; momo is finally drowsy enough to fall asleep again.
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a week after momo has this enticing dream, you’re sat on the couch with her head on your lap. your fingers twirl her hair around subtly, every other minute they dig deeper and massage her scalp gently.
your pointer brushes along the curve of her jaw, then runs down her neck and onto her jawline. you rest your hand there, rubbing her soft skin lightly before going back to massaging her scalp. with this action, momo shifts in her place a bit, and a slow, pleased breath leaves her lips.
you giggle quietly. “damn, must be comfy huh?” you mumble, continuing to massage her head how she likes it.
momo shifts again, and this time you catch her thighs rub from the corner of your eye. your brows furrow just barely when momo sighs, mumbling something you can’t seem to catch. you take your hands out of her scalp and watch her squirm more, her lips part as her brows crease. she continues to rub her thighs together, even biting her lip in her sleep. you tilt your head, looking at her with curiosity, and then everything clicks:
she’s having a sex dream.
a small laugh leaves your lips and you rest your hand against her cheek while her features etch into a familiar expression of bliss while her breaths get shakier. you watch with interest, curious and honestly pretty very turned on by the way she’s squirming; it’s different than her usual riled-up self, a little more needy, almost—compliant?
“y/n— i, i mean— miss, sorry miss…” she says under her breath, but loud enough for you to hear. your brows raise and you look at her with surprise.
miss?
there’s a blatant moan that leaves her mouth and her bottom lip trembles a bit. “p-please, please miss, i’ll be a good girl for you… please…”
“holy shit,” you mutter, watching your girlfriend rut her hips up and lean her head back slightly. “oh my god?”
something about this momo makes your own hips move up involuntarily and your top teeth trap your bottom lip as they subtly bite down. your hand finds itself inching down to momo’s thigh, and your thumb rubs small circles against the skin below where her shorts end; momo groans at the contact.
your middle finger finds its way in between momo’s legs and lightly grazes against the cloth covering her heat—it’s damp, no, it’s soaked.
“fuck,” you sigh, “bet you feel good in that dream, yeah?”
“y/n, please…”
before you can touch her where she needs it—before you can touch her properly as she sleeps, not just a feathered touch—momo jerks and sits up, groaning then rubbing her eyes. she turns so that she’s sitting like you; legs dangling off the couch and back facing the cushion behind her. she sits up properly while she recovers from her quick nap; and her tremendously appealing dream.
her cheeks grow even warmer when she sees the hand that is still in between her legs. “w-what, what are you doing?” she stutters, flustered from the dream and how wet she is.
you chuckle and decide to tease her just a bit, “were you having a sex dream about me?”
momo pauses, eyes widening. she chokes out a response, “i um, well, yeah… was i—”
“you called me miss, what’s with that?” you ask, watching her whole body tense up and eyes dart away from yours.
momo shakes her head then rubs her eyes, shifting away from your spot on the couch. you’re not going to take that as a response.
you lean closer and place a chaste peck to her jawline, then mutter in her ear, “c’mon, you seemed like you were enjoying your dream, it was cute.”
“y/n i—” she starts, shivering when your lips graze her earlobe and your breath hits it suddenly. “it’s just a dream i mean, i just—”
“too scared to admit something babe?” you laugh, “it’s okay if you want to bottom, not judging ever. actually, i’d be more than happy to switch roles y’know. i wanna make you feel like that, can i?””
your hand snakes around her waist and slides under her shirt, the feel of your skin on hers makes her breath tremble. momo whines when your lips tease her jaw again.
“it’s stupid, y/n, really.” momo tries, “it was just a silly dream.” she argues. your girlfriend inches away from your touch and starts to stand, you catch her by the wrist and grip it firmly.
“not so fast momoring.” you say sternly, looking at her with a quirked brow. you stand up swiftly and push her down onto the couch, standing in front of her now and looking down, eager for an answer. “you’re going to tell me what you were dreaming about.”
momo looks up at you and something about how helpless she looks turns you on more than you’d like to admit.
“words momo, use your words and tell me. you can do it, yeah?”
her hips subconsciously shift when you say that, and she continues to avoid your gaze, frantically looking around the room, the floor, and anything but you. her unusually timid self makes you laugh at the sight of her—sleepy and bashful, also pretty turned on from the way her thighs rub against one another—and then you use your hand to tilt her head up so she faces you.
“words, or i can stop what i’m doing, you want me to stop?”
“no, please no.” momo responds almost immediately and unintentionally—she said without thinking—almost as if she were out of breath. you laugh in response, tucking her hair behind her ear. “it’s just… embarrassing…” she adds.
“just tell me about it and we can make your dream a reality, yeah? seemed pretty good from the way you were moaning my name, baby.” you tease, “now, speak up.”
momo hesitates for a moment, looking at you and folding from the sultry voice you talk to her with, low and alluring. she darts her eyes away quickly and then returns to the burning eye contact. she gulps lightly, then starts to speak with a trembling voice,
“i um, you… i,” she clenches her jaw before starting again, surprised at how she’s obeying to you so easily. “first i was on my knees—for you—in the bedroom.” she looks down quickly, jaw tensing when she cringes at her words. her mind is a mess and her heart beats at an abnormal pace, but she’s way too turned on to turn back now.
you snicker, “were you now?”
“yeah.” she admits. your hand slides to her neck and your fingers play with her hair subtly, she continues, “and… you told me to call you miss and ma’am—which i did do—and, fuck this is really embarrassing y/n, it’s all stupid, really—”
 “ah ah, keep going.” you say in amusement, breaking the eye contact so you can look at how her lip’s part and jaw tighten.
“you took care of me,” momo finally says, “really well.”
“yeah? want me to take care of you like in your dream?” you ask, and she nods eagerly.
you smile proudly at how brave it was to admit this to you, and you’re glad because holy shit did it sound intriguing and as her girlfriend, you have to make her dreams come true.
you bite your lip while tilting your head slightly, then simply say— no, you order: “bedroom, come.” and momo follows you when you start to walk towards the shared room, feelings of excitement flowing throughout her body. there’s no way her sex dream is about to come true.
the door closes behind you and you turn to see your girlfriend standing there nervously, looking at you eagerly with a lust-filled, yet anxious stare.
you take a step forward and her breath quivers, you smile at the sight. “down on the bed, sit.” you order, momo listens competently and does as she’s told. “good girl.”
now with that remark momo feels her tummy do a flip and her pussy throb, the way you say it with that low, seductive voice kills her. it makes her knees weak. you walk up and trace your finger up her neck, and with the way her muscles contract subtly when she tenses up, you can tell she’s already sensitive and on edge. it’s ironic seeing she’s the one who usually has you like this.
“now tell me more about your dream, give me the full details.”
“i told you, you made me feel good… y/n please, it’s embarrassing—” momo is cut off when you harshly hold her face up, her cheeks being squished by your fingers when you do so. a low whine escapes her lips and she grips the sheets, looking at you with puppy eyes that make almost make you laugh.
“god you’re pathetic, so shy it’s almost annoying. now, miss or ma’am from now on, since you’re being so incompetent.” you scoff. “when i tell you to do something you do it. got it?”
momo nods quickly.
“and now i’m telling you— no, this is an order: tell me about your dream, momo.” you say sternly, and momo gulps, looking at the desire and lust in your eyes.
she’s not used to this side of you, not used to this bossy type of y/n and it’s making her wetter than she had anticipated. momo hesitates and tries to maintain eye contact with you, but it’s hard.
“sorry miss,” she says in the cutest voice ever, so desperate, so obedient. you could get used to this.
for the most part, you’re being so stern with her because it’s really fucking hot seeing her like this, seeing her fold under you so easily when you’re the one who’s usually in this position. you also need to know more about her dream because one: how will you know what she really wants from you, how you can please her to the best of your ability. two: you want to know more of what’s going on in that dirty little brain of hers., what fantasies you’ve been unaware of.
momo cannot believe she’s submitting so easily to you, and there’s no escape from this confrontation of her little sex dream. so, she does what she has to, what you ordered her to do—all because she’s a good girl, your good girl.
“my wrists,” she begins, struggling to recollect the memories from her dream due to how flustered she is. momo can feel her cheeks literally burning, and the way your eyes drill into hers does not help her state right now. “they were tied with the black tie i wear to work and i was naked, you were touching me, ruining me.” momo locks her eyes with yours and her brows give in, relaxing as she fully gives herself to you with that helpless, needy expression. “i was being good and you said i was a good girl too, yours. you left me a mess, left me crying.” and after saying all of this, after recollecting the memories from her very enticing dream, she musters up the courage to ask, “can you take care of me like that? please?”
her pride and whatever embarrassment she had from earlier is out the window at this point; now the only thing she wants is you to ruin her, she doesn’t care how flustered she’ll be after this, the only thing taking over her is the hungry desire for your care and touch. just like that damn dream of hers.
you smile, satisfied with this more detailed answered. “of course baby, as long as you’re good for me.” you assure, cupping her cheek and letting her ease herself into your palm. “you can do that, yeah?”
“yes ma’am.”
“good.”
you take your hand off her cheek and she whines lowly, earning a small chuckle of amusement from you. turning around and taking a few steps, you reach for where momo hangs her work tie on the hook drilled into the door, then grab the fabric hung on it. you wrap it around so that it’s resting around your neck untied. momo watches you attentively, focusing on the way your hips sway subtly, eyes the way your fingers play with the fabric as you walk back to her.
“clothes off.”
“yes, ma’am,” momo responds, quickly taking off her t-shirt and shorts. you bite your lip when you see her nipple just barely poking at the thin bra she has on, leaving a small—yet noticeable—small bulge in the fabric that covers her breasts. your eyes run down her body, pleased to see the damp fabric that’s darkened by her arousal, which paints a smirk on your face.
“you’re so pretty baby, i’m gonna ruin you, ‘kay?
“yes, please, do whatever ma’am.” she says, hands gripping the sheets to contain her eagerness. “i’m all yours.”
“i’m glad you know your place.” you mutter before placing your hand on the center of her upper chest, just under her collarbones. you ease her into lying down onto the bed—making her shift over a bit so her shoulder blades press against the headboard—and straddle her. “my good girl.”
to be completely honest, you’re not one hundred percent sure where you’re going with this, and really, you’re using what momo does to you against her, she’s better at this dominance thing than you are. your first instinct is to close the distance and kiss her, locking your plump lips against her soft ones. your girlfriend whines into the kiss, hands desperately clawing at the exposed skin that isn’t hidden by the crop top you have on. she lets you take over and lead the kiss, following your lips when you decide to linger and then pull back half an inch or two. she’s desperate for your touch and whining each time you tease her, it’s amusing.
you start to suck at the skin on her neck, earning a choked-out groan from momo and a string of curses when your hands start to add stimulus by rubbing circles down on her inner thigh. you pull away from her skin and gaze at the artwork you’ve left on her neck. momo looks at you with the neediest look you’ve ever seen; it’s incredibly tempting and makes you want more.
“so cute.” you mumble. momo sighs, resting her head against the headboard before you press another kiss to her jaw. your hands slither to around her back and your fingers unclasp the navy bra she has on, it falls down around her, leaving the top of her body uncovered. “i’m gonna ruin you.” you say, almost as if it were a promise; a very dirty promise.
you kiss her deeply again, letting her chest squish into yours as you do so and she’s so sensitive that the small amount of contact makes her groan weakly.
“mommy, please… need you, please” her voice breaks slightly, so desperate for attention her sensitive tits that push against you. what she calls you catches you off guard, and it even takes momo by surprise, it just left her mouth on accident. she pauses in place after processing what had slipped past her lips, quickly backing down from embarrassment and her voice shakes when she catches herself, “i-i didn’t mean to say th—"
“shh, shh baby,” you assure, growing needy yourself from what slipped from her lips. “miss” and “ma’am” were already hot enough coming from momo, but “mommy?” holy shit that made your head spin, and it’s the last thing you would’ve thought you were into—but now you’re sure you’re into it after hearing her say it like that. undoubtedly, it’s undeniable that you’re into all of this.
“be patient baby, mommy knows what she’s doing, ‘kay? i’ve got you.”
momo lets herself relax again knowing that you don’t mind her slip-up—one that made your pussy pulse severely—and she lets you make your previous marks darker, you make sure it’ll take at least a week for them to fade away.
you’re pretty new to all of this, new to being in control, the new title you’re being given, this momo; everything is all so thrilling and you fucking love it.
finally, you decide to give momo what she wants, she’s been so obedient and patient, you might as well be generous.
“sit up for me princess, hands behind your back.” and momo does exactly what she’s told just like the good girl she is.
you pull the tie off of your neck and hold it with both hands, bringing it over momo’s head and behind her so you can wrap the tie around her wrists, restraining her hands with a secure knot when you finish tying. now momo’s completely under your control, and her hands are all tied up, meaning you can do whatever. it makes her cunt pulse so badly and she desperately needs you to ease that.
you start by pecking her lower neck sensually, then you start planting kisses down to her breast and eventually latching your mouth onto it. momo moans immediately—and very loudly—as soon as your lips make contact with her sensitive area. your tongue abuses her nipple, swirling around it while you suck and stimulate her; momo might cum just from this, and she’s baffled at how sensitive she is for you.
she shivers when your hand slides up her torso, twitching when your fingers graze along her abs. she continues to moan, it’s more of a whimper at this point from how fucking delicate she is, and she can’t do anything about the overwhelming sensation due to her hands being unable to grip at your skin or hair.
you pay attention to the other tit, giving it the same treatment as you did with the other: sucking on it, swirling your tongue around, leaving marks, and making her breath stutter. momo’s back arches as you leave a trail of kisses down her abs, whining strangled “mommy’s” and begging you to fuck her good.
she’s lightheaded when you press your fingers against her panties, and when you slip them off she whimpers pathetically; it’s adorable.
momo sighs desperately, pretty much begging every time she says something coherent. “a-ah, p-please mommy i’ve been good…”
without warning your lips clasp onto her pussy, and momo’s wrists strain against the tie wrapped tightly around them. she twitches when you eat her out, your nose pressing to her clit every now and then while your tongue fucks her into oblivion. momo tries to hold back her orgasm, i mean, you’ve only toyed with her tits so far and you’ve been eating her out for the past (what momo thinks, though her mind is really fucked right now) thirty seconds, and her breath is already erratic.
“m-miss, fuck, m-mommy p-please i-im—"
her attempt to hold back her climax fails when you suck on her clit and she feels herself shudder as she cums into your mouth. her thighs close around you and words twist at her throat; she practically sobs as you lap up all her arousal. you look up and catch the way her tummy quivers when she breathes, the way her head rests against the headboard while she collects herself.
when she looks down, she looks at your eyes peering back into her own, lust filled and lidded.
“you sound so pretty all riled up baby.”
a smirk finds its way to your lips and you trail back up her body with kisses, making your way back to your chest. before you indulge into her sensitive tits again, you decide to be a tease and brush your fingers over, they spring back into place from how hard they are and you smile. you flick them and momo lets out a choked-out moan. then, you make her scream by suddenly pinching the hardened bud between your fingers, you like this helpless momo. she’s unable to do anything about your teasing and touching. you place hand in between her thighs and two fingers run up and down her folds, teasing her entrance while you kiss her lips hungrily.
she struggles to kiss you back properly, distracted by the sensation down at her core. when you pull away she whimpers, then moans when you stick two fingers in. her head leans into you and she groans into your skin breathlessly, “m-mommy, agh keep going… so good miss, fuck,”
“mommy making you feel good?” you ask, and she nods against you, making you smile. “my pretty girl, so good for me just as she should be.”
you plunge into her harshly, fingers making contact with the sweet spots of her walls that make her bite into your shoulder. at this point, her wrists are going to have crimson marks from how much they’ve been pushing and struggling against the fabric that restrains her.
her breath grows heavier and tears start to form from how overwhelmed and sensitive she is, the word “please” is repeated at least ten times as you fuck her relentlessly. she’s quick to cum again after you thrust into her with your fingers again—this time pretty harshly, the top of your palm abusing her clit as you do so—which makes her back arch dangerously and tears roll down her cheeks, her flushed, hot cheeks.
holy shit. you think, looking at her state. her face is rosy, her pussy is already starting to swell, and tears form in her eyes again; she looks so goddamn pretty like this. you want her sobbing.
without warning, you shove two fingers back in and momo yelps, her body jerking from the sudden pleasure.
“w-wait, m-mommy— ‘s too much—”
“shh shh baby, i know you can take it. you’re a good girl right? gonna take it for mommy?”
momo closes her eyes tightly and catches her breath. she nods, then responds with a strained voice, “anything f-for you,”
“good girl.” you say, and you decide to push her limits a bit, adding a third finger to her battered, swelling pussy.
this is what has tears flowing down and despite the sobs, momo doesn’t want it to stop; she’d cry even more if you were to take your fingers out, if you were to stop abusing her core with those fingers of yours. her mind is so foggy, everything starts to get dizzy and you simply watch your girlfriend squirm and lose herself from your touch.
“so much, ah— m-mommy ‘m gonna cum, c-can i cum? please? please let me…” she begs.
“of course you can sweetheart, mommy is going to take care of you, always.” you assure, kissing her cheek and tasting the slight saltiness from her tears. “cum for mommy, yeah? you’ve been good.”
your fingers move in and out of her cunt with a sharp rhythm and curl at the spot that earns the loudest lewd noises. her breath hitches again and a knot forms in her stomach. she groans, cries, and whines—all at once, somehow—and you feel her walls tighten around all three fingers.
momo cums and a loud cry—practically a scream, one that might have your neighbors asking what’s going on—escapes her, the loudest of the night probably. her hips jerk up, she twitches, and tears fall onto her collarbone and chest. she falls limp against the headboard when you take your fingers out and her breath is still heavy, but she recollects herself.
with your thumb, you wipe away a few of her tears and kiss her incredibly swollen and red lips softly. she whines quietly into you as you do all of this, you caress her neck and help her relax after her overwhelming climax.
you pull away and admire your girlfriend: flushed cheeks, puffy lips, pink nose, and dampened cheeks from the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing down.
you undo the knot of the tie tightened around her wrists and throw it somewhere to the right. momo brings her—now free—hand up to her face and wipes her tears away, sniffling lightly. you smile at how adorable she looks; she’s all ruined and littered with deep red marks all over her neck, body, and inner thighs.
“c’mere.” you mumble, settling yourself beside her. you put out your arms and momo weakly leans into you against your chest, you pull the (now slightly dampened at the bottom) blanket over yourselves.
“was i good?” momo asks genuinely. you smile and kiss her forehead, then push her hair out of her face.
“more than good, you did great.” you assure. momo moves her head so that it’s situated in the crook of your neck, and she kisses it softly; a small giggle leaves your lips. “did you always have dreams like this?” you ask.
“once,” momo mumbles, “i woke up in the middle of the night from it last week, but that’s it. only that dream and… earlier…”
“would you have told me about these dreams if i didn’t catch you sleep-moaning?” you say teasing her with the last part of your response.
momo thinks to herself for a brief moment, then says, “i don’t know, it’s embarrassing.”
“no, not at all.” you say, “i didn’t know you had a mommy kink—i didn’t know i had one.”
“me neither… it just, slipped out.” she says, “ugh, this is so embarrassing, stop.”
you laugh and kiss her head. “well, i liked it a lot. you clearly liked it too.”
“uggghh.” momo groans.
“c’mon, am i wrong?”
momo pauses for a bit.
“no.” she responds.
you decide to leave momo alone and give her a little breather after fucking her to tears and teasing her about her newfound kink. you massage her scalp and feel her fully relax into you, her eyes close and she kisses you one more time.
“momoring, before you sleep.” you mumble, she hums. “can we do this again?”
she responds quickly, “please.”
you giggle and smile again, pressing her naked body closer to you and closing your own eyes. momo is glad that her dreams came true, and she hopes there are more dreams like these that can be fulfilled in the future.
817 notes · View notes
goldsainz · 10 months
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HIS LUCKY CHARM — one shot.
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pairing: lando norris x reader
MASTERLIST.
summary: lando is disappointed you can’t make it to his home race, only to be surprised at the end.
request: “Hi! Could you write something about Lando and reader when she surprise him on race day. Lando is sad when she told can't do this on his home race bc something important with her work but after all she appears on Sunday on track. He is more than happy with that and archive good resolut be she is his lucky charm”
warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst, a probably not accurate depiction of the garage
NOTE: WHAT A RACE!! loved the lando+lewis podium, also oscar was great 🫶 anyway, to celebrate have this little thing, thank you sm for requesting bc this inspired me a lot (you kinda manifested the good result???) i added a shameless cameo in there, i just couldnt help myself! (the ending is rushed, ignore it😁)
[ word count: 2,2k ]
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“I’m so sorry, Lando.” Is what you say to your boyfriend when you have to break the bad news to him.
“It’s okay.” His face breaks into a broken smile, with glossy eyes he holds your hands and brushes his thumbs up and down your palms.
“I’ll still tune in.” 
“I know.”
“I’ll be rooting for you.” 
“I know.”
You take your hands from his hold, and place them around his neck. You watch as his right posture lightly relaxes at your touch. 
“I don’t wanna miss it. You know I don’t.” 
You wish your job wasn’t as demanding as it was, that it didn’t make you fly to another country in the middle of your boyfriend’s home Grand Prix. But it does. And you’re not sure how to handle the emotional stress it inflicts on you both, and you sure hope it doesn’t affect him in a way that will mess up his race.
“And if I could make it, I would.” 
“It’s alright. It’s your job, I know it’s not your fault.” Even though Lando’s words seem reassuring, and he means them with his whole heart; you still feel guilty. 
With that, he stands up and makes his way to the kitchen of your shared apartment. You watch him leave, and with a heavy heart start to pack whatever stuff you need for your trip. It destroys you to see him sad so close to his home race, a time where he should be joyous, only worried about the car and nothing more. 
You’re not sure how you’re going to make it up to him, but you will.
Somehow.
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You were being a little secretive, and you were sure Lando definitely noticed. 
Your boss and you had managed to come to an arrangement which allowed you to be present for the race. It would all be very tight in timing, but nothing that couldn’t be accomplished. It involved a lot of overworking the days before, but it was very much worth it.
You could already imagine the face Lando would make when he finally saw you. Whether he got a good result or not, there was no doubt you wanted to be there with him. 
It took a lot of care for you to arrive at the paddock almost incognito, with fans already speculating why you weren't at his home race. Thankfully no break-up rumours had surfaced, but there were a couple hurtful ones that made you want to be present even more. 
But you knew that no matter how much Lando acted like he was oblivious to what happened around him, his silly act was simply that; an act. You didn't like keeping secrets from him, it felt wrong to have to blatantly lie to him whilst everyone around him knew something he didn't. Still, it would all work out in the end.
Lando’s family had been so happy to see you in the paddock. His grandma (who adored you) hugged you as tightly as she could, quickly bidding you goodbye when you told her you had to go to the garage quickly to get prepared for the race. 
There was no doubt that the tingly feeling of nerves creeped up on you the moment you spotted all the engineers and people moving around, getting everything that needed to be set up wrapped up so the race could go smoothly. Zak was already at the pit wall, and Lando was sitting in his car ready for the formation lap to begin. 
At the garage you spotted Florence Pugh, who had a McLaren headset on. You had seen her on the paddock, but wasn't aware of the fact that she had come to the race invited by McLaren. You tried not to freak out, you saw celebrities almost everywhere when you came to races or went out with Lando. Still, the actress had a special place in your heart.
It took a little of hyping yourself up, and confidence to walk up to her, but you did. You would be sharing the garage for an hour and a half, the least you could do is socialise a little. 
“Hi! I’m Y/N.” You said to Florence watching her turn around with a smile on her face.
“Hello!” She says, greeting you like you were an old friend. “I’m Florence”
“You’re a McLaren fan?” 
“Honestly, I’m more of a Lewis fan.” She said with a laugh, keeping ehr voice just loud enough so you could hear her.
“I get that. I mean, who isn’t?” 
The conversation flowed for a little more until the race was about to start. You excused yourself and moved to an area closer to the screen, where you could watch Lando close-up. You loved being in the garage because of the different screens and the attention to their drivers, that allowed you to experience the race in different ways.
Your headset was adjusted and you were awaiting the moment where David Croft would say it’s lights out. Your knee was slightly bouncing, but you tried your best to contain the nerves. 
“It lights out and away we go!” Exclaims David Croft, his voice echoing through the garage.
You watch as Lando has a great start, and it takes about a second for him to take the lead. You hear the roar of the crowd before you can even react.
“Yes! Go Lando!” You scream, your voice doesn't make anyone flinch because everyone around you has the same reaction. It is a sight to behold, a moment you are more than grateful to see live. 
“I can’t believe it.” Someone next to you says, and you can't help but smile. 
It is no secret how badly the season started for McLaaren. You watched Lando’s smile waver more than once, his faith in the team never wavering, but still. He was rightfully let down by the performance of the adr,a dn you had to reassure him multiple times that it wasn't his fault. Because he was doing the best that he could with what he had. 
So now, seeing him get to this moment, is absolutely deserved.
A couple of laps go by and Max takes the lead for your boyfriend. There is disappointment in the atmosphere, but everyone knows that P2 is a miracle and that Lando is doing absolutely great work out there. They all know how great it would be to have him finish in that position, especially since Oscar is P3. 
Getting a podium in Silverstone would mean the world to Lando, Which is why you're worried about what will happen when they pit. Whatever strategy they choose will determine if Lando gets podium or not, and you will not pretend to really know what happens or how they come up with strategies, but you hope that they dont mess up his race because of wrong timing or choose the wrong tyres. 
As you watch his car race, you suddenly see on the screen that one of the Haas cars has come to a halt. A safety car is deployed, which means a couple of cars will choose to change tyres. The whole garage groans when Lewis’s car comes out in front of Oscar’s after he pits, now challenging Lando’s position.
It’s like you can’t breathe between those laps that Lando and Lewis battle for P2. Everyone is at the edge of their seats watching them race against the other, and you hope that this doesn't end up running both their races. The last thing anyone wants is for them to crash, because going from that position to a DNF would result in disappointment for everyone involved.
“Come on, Lando! Come on!” You scream, your palms intertwined in front of you as you watch him fight for his position. 
Thankfully, Lando manages to maintain his standing and leaves Lewis behind him for good. The hard compound tyres he was pitted for are giving him a tough time, you know that it is not ideal. Not when he could've lost his position, but with just 10 laps to go your faith in him is over the roof. 
You’re on twitter, refreshing your timeline to see if there is anything you missed. The fans are so enthusiastic, their comments make you smile. Even if there are people out there who don't like Lando, there are even more who love him and want nothing but the best for him. 
You watch as Florence is escorted out of the garage since she will be waving the flag. You watch her face light up in excitement, and in all her excitement she still waves at you. You don't waste a second in waving right back at her, turning your head right after to the screens.
The moment Lando crosses the finish line the McLaren garage erupts in cheers. You hug whoever is next to you, a teary smile pulling at your lips. You cannot help the tears that fall down your face, you usually don't get that emotional during a race, but this is his home race and he is on the podium. If there is any time to cry, this is it. 
You are almost running to the barriers, waiting for the moment that Lando steps out of his car and goes to celebrate with the team. You are wearing his merch, something that will surely stand out to him, enough that in his podium haze he will spot you. 
He goes up to the team, his helmet now long gone, and that is when he sees you.
You who told him you couldn't make it, are suddenly there. 
In a flash he moves in front of you. You cannot tell him anything because in an instant he is grabbing you, squeezing you so tight he lifts you up from the ground in excitement, you giggle right in his ear and he is sure that that is the most beautiful sound he will ever hear. He is careful not to take the barrier with him, not wanting a warning from the stewards.
After a couple seconds you pull back slightly enough to see his face. Your hands waste no time in grabbing his face and placing his lips right over  yours. Lando reacts almost immediately, melting right into the kiss, the adrenaline from the race still pumping through his veins. You can hear some cameras click, and the cheer from some people, but you ignore it.
You have to pull back eventually, not because you want to, but because there is so much to say and not enough time, not to forget the fact that he has yet to go to the podium.
“I cannot believe you’re here.” He whispers right over your lips, his sticky forehead pressed against yours.
“I couldn’t miss this.” You say, watching as his lips pull into a grin.
“I was pretty cool out there, wasn't I?” You snort at his words, separating from him but his hands never leave your waist.
“Oscar was really cool.” His grip on your waist tightens, “I haven’t properly congratulated him yet, actually.”
Someone from the team says something to him, you're sure they're telling him to wrap your conversation up because he has to go up to the podium. 
“You were great out there.” You tell him, your eyes holding all the sincerity in the world. You watch his gaze soften at your words, and he places a quick peck as he finally lets you out of his hold.
“Of course I was,” You shake your head at his smugness, “My lucky charm was here.”
You cannot help the tears that well up in your eyes at the softness of his words. You know that the celebrations and compliments are not over, but for now they are. You step back a little from the barrier, seeing as he is rushed to the podium and joins his fellow drivers on the steps. 
You smile up at him, watching as he grabs the champagne. He moves it around a little and then hits it against the ground, effectively bringing back the iconic champagne spike he does whenever he is on the podium. 
Lando sprays it everywhere, and you're almost sure a little hits you. Your theory is confirmed when he is smiling widely at you, like a kid caught doing something he should but isn't the least bit sorry. You laugh at his antics, which in turn makes him smile even wider (which you're not sure how it's even possible). 
When the champagne runs out, his gaze catches yours once more. You mouth an “I love you” to him, watching from afar as he blushes. A second after he returns the sentiment, mouthing it back and blowing you a kiss.
You thank your boss in your head for letting you be here with him, because if you hadn't been here with him you would've sure felt horrible for it. 
After all, Lando needs his lucky charm with him and you're more than happy to oblige to his wishes.
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greynatomy · 7 months
Text
the one that got away
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alessia russo x reader
second part to regret. had a lot of fun writing this and might do more polls if i can’t choose for myself again. also, ignore how many times rory’s age is asked. didn’t realize how many times i wrote it in.
part 1
———
“Gather ‘round girls!” Jonas’ voice brings Leah back to the present.
Everyone comes together at the middle of the gym, waiting for what Jonas is gonna say.
“Just wanna welcome everyone who was in Australia back and also our ACL squad. We’re all glad to see you all up and running.” Everyone cheers and claps. “Now, I wanna welcome our new signing, Alessia Russo.” Alessia walks towards the group awkwardly, not wanting to trip.
“Hi.” She gives a small wave.
“Don’t be shy Lessi. We’re all friendly.”
“Yeah! We don’t bite!”
Over the course of the week, Alessia gets situated with the team and the dynamics, learning how to play with her new team.
“Mrs. Russo, someone’s been calling your phone. It’s says there’s ten missed calls.”
“From who?”
“Amore Mio.”
Everyone’s attention is now on Alessia, all curios about the girl’s significant other, judging from the name that the trainer said that was shown on her phone.
“Hi, love. What happened? So, she’s fine. Yeah. Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I love you. See you later.”
She gives her phone back to one of the trainers, telling them to inform her if you were to call again.
“What was that all about?” Katie asks in her usual loud voice.
“Oh, sorry. My daughter got hurt at preschool.”
“Wait. Hold up! Daughter? You have a daughter?” She didn’t know who asked, but saw the rest of the team walking closer to her.
“Uh, yeah.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s three now.”
“And I’m guessing you didn’t carry cause you’ve not really took a break from football.”
“Nope. Won’t be carrying any babies in me. Freaks me out a bit, but my wife happily did it.”
“So you have a kid and a wife and none of us knew about it?”
“No one really knows. We wanted to keep it to ourselves. I didn’t want the public knowing and plastering their face in the media yet, and we like our little bubble.”
“Not even Tooney knew?”
“Oh, Tooney knew. She had to give the best friend talk and all that. Wanted to know her opinion before anything turned serious and now we’re four years strong, three of them married.”
“So, when do you think we’ll meet ‘em?”
———
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“Not really, but have to be. I’ll be seeing a lot of her more since you’ve transferred.”
“It’s been five years too, she’d probably moved on, yeah?”
“Don’t know Lessi. I hope so. Now let’s get little princess dressed.”
“I’ve already dressed her, babe. Just waiting on you.”
You looked at her skeptically.
“You? Dressed Rory?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alessia asked, offense written on her face.
“Nothing bad, Less. Just, you turn her into a mini me every time.”
“And she loves it every time. I love when the two of you match. My favorite girls.
“And when this baby pops out of me, no doubt he’ll be a mini you.”
“I won’t be outnumbered this time.”
———
“Sorry, I’m late. Kid ran away while I tried getting her in the car.” Alessia explained, walking to where everyone was gathered in the backyard.
“You’re fine. Now, who is this little one?”
“Wanna say your name bubs?”
“I Rory. I dis many.” She says holding up three fingers.
“Woah. That’s a lot of fingers.” Your daughter giggles.
“Did that wife of yours come?”
“Yeah, she probably went to the—”
“—Sorry. I had to go to the washroom. It’s nice to meet you all. Name’s—”
“—Y/n.” Leah finishes, shocked, voice shaking.
“…Hi, Leah.”
“You two know each other.” Katie asks, intrigued how the skipper knew you.
“Uh, yeah. We used to be close friends.”
“No. She was my wife.” You could’ve heard a pin drop from how silent everyone was.
“Okay. Woah. There is a lot to unpack here.”
“And they can do it privately.” Alessia intervened.
“You know about our history.” Leah turns to Alessia, hurt all over her face. She was close to the girl, being on the national team together and the whole time she was in a relationship with her ex-wife.
“Of course I do. She’s my wife.”
The dinner was pretty awkward for a bit after the interaction. Rory have been playing with some of the other girls, you staying by your wife’s side getting to know her teammates.
Eventually, Leah got the courage to go up to you.
“Hey, uh, do you think we could talk?”
You look up at her, seeing the nervous look on her face.
“Sure. Honey, help me up.” Alessia grabs ahold of your hand and the other on your arm to stabilize you. “Let’s go inside.”
You go to little sitting area in the corner of the living room, away from everyone, but not out of sight. There was a couple seconds of silence, very awkward silence.
“Are you just not gonna say anything?”
Leah apologizes. “Uh, how’ve you been?”
“Doing pretty good.”
Another awkward silence.
“I’m sorry. I don’t really know what to say. I’ve had five years to practice what I was gonna say to you if I ever would run into you, but it just slipped my mind. But I guess I wanted to apologize and say that I took you for granted. I don’t deserve your forgiveness at all for being distant, lying to you about where I’ve been doing or going… for, uh, cheating on you. I’ve hated myself the second it happened.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“What?”
“Why’d you do it? Was it something I did that made you go to another that you should’ve gone to me for or—”
“—No! God, no! You did nothing wrong, it was all on me. I don’t really have an explanation as shitty as it sounds.”
“It’s been five years and I do forgive you. I think I forgave you the moment I met my wife. I needed to close the door on our relationship to be able to truly love her how she should be loved, so I forgive you. Doesn’t mean that I’ll ever forget. But you are forgiven.”
“Thank you.”
Before anyone can say anything else, your daughter runs to you, climbing into your lap.
“Hi, Mommy.”
“Hi, baby. You having fun?”
“Yeah! Stephy and Kya (Kyra) pway with me.”
“That’s so sweet of them.”
Leah watches your interaction with your daughter, a sad smile on her face.
“How old is she?”
“Hey, Rory. This is Mama’s teammate Leah. Can you tell her how old you are?”
“I free!” She holds up three fingers towards Leah.
“Woah! You’re so big! And you have a little sibling on the way. Can I ask how far along you are?” The question directed towards you.
“I’m five months along. It’s a boy.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you! Well, it’s been great catching up with you Leah. I’m glad you’re doing well.”
Leah watches you walk away, your daughter on your hip, towards your wife who was chatting up with a few teammates. She watches Alessia grab Aurora from you, giving you a smile and a kiss, seeing the love you two have.
Maybe in another life, one she hadn’t screwed up on , that could’ve been you and her, but she was just glad that you have someone who lived you the way you deserve to be loved.
Now, that she got everything out of her chest, she would be able to move on, but you’ll always be the one that got away.
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gatorbites-imagines · 3 months
Note
Shanks w male s/o who's love languages are physical affection & words of affirmation, who's a romantic but laid back. Some fluffy and smutty head canons if that's possible, with verse shanks?
(Might be a bit too specific and if so feel free to ignore completely, as with anything ofc: Reader has ADHD and a lot of history hyper fixations and does martial arts rather than swordsmanship)
Shanks x Male Reader
Headcanons
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I love Shanks, I wanna put him in a box and shake it around and hear him rattle around.
You probably joined the crew later on after running into them many times over the years, maybe you and Shanks already had some kind of relationship without it being anything official. Thinks lotsa flirting and nights spent together whenever your paths cross.
Being a martial artist and running in the same circles as Shanks it means you’re most likely a master in your craft.
Sparring is most likely a type of foreplay for you two, even after you join his crew. The rest of the crew knows to keep at a distance when you two start riling the other up for a spar, since they all know where its leading nowadays.
I can see Shanks as someone who’s love language is also physical affection, so you two are always seen all over each other or hanging on the other. After Shanks lost his arm, it probably caused some issues since he had to get used to not being able to hold you at the same time as he did other stuff.
After losing his arm, you make sure to push him to his limits to make up for the struggle of having to be a skillful fighter with a missing limb. You may or may not reward him for his “achievements” whenever he passes a milestone, meaning he works even harder.
I don’t see Shanks as someone who blushes much, but he always finds himself smiling when you show affection through words of affirmation. It makes his insides do swoops and flips even if you guys have been together for years.
Your words of affirmation truly shine through after he loses his arm, since there’s part of him that probably feels like he is less attractive and desirable, especially since he can’t do the same things as before with only one arm.
This just means you have to show him you still love him all the same, much to the annoyance of your crew and especially Benn, since you and Shanks act like a pair of teenagers in your first relationship at times.
The physical affection bleeds through to the bedroom, resulting in stuff like body worship always being present one way or another. If you start praising and complimenting Shanks, I could see him getting red in the face from just how much you can come up with.
Even with one hand he still touches you all over, and he finds interesting ways to use his haki to keep it all interesting and fresh. He always gets a little too cocky in your opinion when he surprises you with whatever new he’s come up with.
I could imagine him loving your body a lot. As a martial artist, you most likely built muscle very quickly, resulting in stretch marks, unless you somehow have a devilfruit that makes it so you don’t get them.
But imagining you do, he always licks and nibbles at them, snickering when you wack him over the head for biting at your hips or licking at the sides of your pecs. Shanks never apologizes for laying all his love on you, he just shrugs and says he can’t contain himself with someone as irresistible as you.
Speaking of the bedroom, he loves when you ride him. Shanks probably also some kind of captain kink. Seeing as you guys are lovers and see each other as mostly equals, you don’t really call him captain outside of battle, so when you finally do use that title, he always snaps to attention.
To add to the point above. Roleplay. He could walk into his quarters and see you splayed out on his bed in a dramatic pose, wearing some clothes you bought just for this, like a different gi or maybe even a marine uniform.
Lay it on thick whining about the big scary Yonko shanks having captured you, how strong he is and how you’ll do anything for him to show you mercy. It always gets his haki boiling around him, a glint appearing in his eyes before he pounces on you.
But I can also imagine him wanting to be the one playing a role. Maybe he plays the role of a poor pirate who’s washed up on your island and you’ve been taking care of him, so he has to return the favor and thank you.
Or maybe when you both feel more electricity and adrenaline in the air, you play out the roles of rivals who spar and give it your all to dominate the other. You guys are pretty evenly matched if he doesn’t pull out his conquerors haki, so its up in the air whos gonna win, not that Shanks minds.
On a more fluffy end, he takes you on dates. Since you always show how much you love him through your words and actions, he wants to find ways to show you just how much he loves you in return.
Expect him to whisk you off on a date on every island your crew stops at, even if you guys are in a hurry. It can be anything from a full week away at a fancy hotel, to a trip to a bar or even just a walk around the area so you two can spend time together.
When Shanks is drunk, he gets even more clammy. He will hang off you and be more perverted. You’ve had to pull him into an alleyway or back to the ship more than once cuz he wants to climb you right then and there in public, and he’s not shy about falling to his knees to undo your pants to get his mouth on you.
After all this time, you don’t really feel any shame or embarrassment, but you respect others you get him somewhere more private before you let Shanks go at it as he pleases.
I can see him struggling with words at times, so its through these acts that he expresses his love, though he probably finds it lacking compared to your more open way of showing it. But again, you’ll just have to reassure him that you know he loves you, and that you enjoy everything he does for you to show it.
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popponn · 7 months
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dating consultations. [nagi seishiro x f!reader]
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notes: it's like 'wow feelings eh' read in elmo voice. then add my nagi phase and my recent obsession with childhood friend!nagi, it turns out like this. warnings: mentions (in a very unserious way) and (manga esque) depiction of break up at the end (not between you and nagi), mentions of bunch of break ups on your part, pinning, childhood friends + gaming buddies (?), obliviousness, post canon au, minor cursing. wo/ta/koi influenced this in some ways.
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“Nagi Seishiro, listen to me,” you began.
“Don’t wanna,” Nagi replied, without lifting his head from his phone.
“So, I think my boyfriend broke up with me after finding out I spent money on gacha game,” you continued on, ignoring Nagi’s refusal. “I mean, sure, that's not a good financial decision. But hey, my husband gotta go home somehow and it's like an extra money that I already planned to spend anyway. Don't you get it?”
“No, I don't.”
“Exactly—but you see, I also think that he was honest, and what bothered him the most is because he found out that you and I play better in another game that he also played…” you trailed off at a sudden, more unpleasant that appeared in your mind. “…Seishiro, if I suddenly kick you out of the leaderboard’s number one spot, you will still be my friend right?”
“Nope,” Nagi replied without missing a beat. Like a rite of passage, you knew what came afterward would make you angry. “Your aim at FPS sucks way too much for that to happen.”
Immediately, you heaved out a short huff. You then threw your body over Nagi’s quickly, cuddling the soft blanket draped over him and enjoying the soft detergent scent left on it. Whining and protesting, you “Cheer me up, you brat! I raised you on my back since kindergarten and this is how you repay me?! We grew up in the same litter—spare some sympathy for me!”
(Seishiro found his whole body stiffening when you buried your face on his shoulder and pressed your chest towards his arm. Through the blanket, he could faintly feel your warmth and body. Five years ago, this would have been something he would brush off without batting an eye. Having crushes on oblivious childhood friends who only saw you as childhood buddies is hard—Seishiro noted dully.)
“Eh, why?” Nagi questioned back, blankly, focus still drilled on the PVP shooting game he was on. “This is your…how many breaks up it had been already?”
“…I know your social IQ is low, but can you stop rubbing salt over my wounds?”
“Anyway, don’t you think you break up way too often already to feel hurt?”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…ah,” Nagi mindlessly cut the silence between the two of you. “That headshot was dirty.”
“…you are really bad at this whole cheering up thing,” you chided, sounding all too fond for it to have any effect at all. “And stop making me sound like some Whatpad bad boy.”
(From the corner of his sight, Seishiro saw a small smile etched itself on your lips. It was still too bittersweet for his liking, but at least after this—like always, as Seishiro had come to remember after all this time, without willing to—you would cheer up and stop talking about your nth ex. You wouldn’t sulk anymore and go on with whatever else except some guy who happened to be your ex.)
“Didn’t you say you want to be one, back in middle school?” Nagi questioned. “Also hurry up and log in, I need to grind for new artifacts.”
“That was middle school!” you screeched, feeling your whole head heating up due to some embarrassing flashbacks. “And you are still playing another game—I will log in later—”
“I’m done,” Nagi said, perfectly timed with the winning screen his phone displayed. “Log in. Hurry. Hurry.”
You glared dirtily at Nagi and his timing—or luck, whichever it was this time. “I hate you. Also, use Al-Haizen and Seno, I want the full ikemen academy team today.”
“Their synergy is shit.”
“And they are handsome. Your point?”
“I don’t wanna.”
“I will curse you with all defense and flat sub stat if you dare.”
“…that’s awful,” Nagi said, finally. His defeat was imminent from the start.
You sent him a wolfish smile, “And I’m still your only gaming buddy. Shush and just log in, big koala.”
“The one who is stuck on my back is you,” Nagi commented, while still following your words and changing his team before requesting to go to your map.
You laughed as you pressed your phone. With a certain brand of closeness laced in your voice, you protested, “Why are you this nosy with me? Last time I checked you are pretty obedient to Mikage, Isagi, and your captain.”
(Seishiro tried to process your words for a moment. To him, the answer has always been obvious in the way that both you and him even bothered to stick close to each other even as the two of you approached the age of twenty together. In how the one you told everything to is still him despite everyone in your life. In how if you ask, he will walk through the city just to pick you up after a terrible date and walk side by side to your home.)
Nagi stayed silent for a moment. From his side profile—adorable, handsome, yet still as baby-faced and familiar as ever—you could see how he was thinking. Then, he offered you an answer in a half-baked, dry tone, “…because it’s you?”
Once again, you laughed. Trying to swallow whatever odd beat his answer managed to draw from your heart deep and away from your face. “Gosh—watch your wording, Sei—oh, you are in already. Let’s go artifact farming! If it’s shitty let it just be Seishiro’s and not mine!”
As you hurriedly pressed your screen, you tried to not realize Nagi’s stare from your side.
You were not ready yet to admit whatever you felt for him was real. This was only a side effect of consecutive terrible break ups.
That was it and nothing else.
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(”I don’t think I am the one you are in love with,” your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—told you gently. This was yet another same reason, just told to you in a gentler, more understanding way.
You could only watch him silently. You were confused, yet a part of you somehow managed to understand what he meant. However, you still couldn’t put what it was into words despite all that.
“..well, I don’t think you do it by purpose,” the man in front of you said with a nervous laugh. “…nonetheless, I’m rooting for the two of you. Don’t make him wait for too long, okay?”
Hearing that, even if you still couldn’t grasp much yet, you forced yourself to respond through your tears. “…I’m sorry...?”
“Don’t be. It should be me, really.” Ever the nice guy, your ex-boyfriend still smiled. “This is more of me saving myself from hurting in the future… just, think of it as me being bitter for being worse than you and that childhood friend of yours in that shooting game, okay?”
You laughed bitterly at that. Your crying hadn’t ceased yet, yet you managed out another reply, “Seriously? You are a shitty nice guy.”
Still smiling, your ex—a good friend, a gentle person, a diligent worker—gave you a chuckle that sounded guilty. “…sorry. I really hope we can still remain friends after this.”
“Of course. No way I’m letting go of a star student as a group project member just because of a breakup,” you joked, even if you were unsure of the future. Then, remembering how he is, you added, “And get your ugly mug off my sight now. We are breaking up—stop smiling, you bastard.”
“…well, then… should I… accompany you home…?”
“You are my ex now—no way, nice guy,” you shut him off quickly. Then, after a pause, it felt like an answer as you continued.
“…I will just call Nagi. Go away.”)
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405 notes · View notes
wreckedandpolemic · 24 days
Note
6,98,99. Sorry for the multiple numbers, they just work so well together.
Also love your work!💜
my kink is karma - matty healy
(mdni) in which your ex wants to give you a birthday treat. too bad for your boyfriend. 2099 words.
warnings: cheating, semi-public sex, daddy kink
Firstly, you’d like to say that you’re not a spiteful person, thank you very much. But fuck if it doesn’t feel good to run into your ex drinking alone while celebrating your birthday with your friends and your shiny, new boyfriend. Matty salutes you with his glass when you spot him, and you ignore him pointedly. He won’t fucking leave it alone, though — that’s always been his problem.
“Of all the gin joints in all the world, she walks into mine,” says Matty, low in your ear as you go to order yourself another drink at the bar. You hope he doesn’t notice the shudder that runs through you at the sound of his voice. “Whatever she’s having on my tab, yeah?” he adds smoothly, and you roll your eyes. 
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll have a bottle of the most expensive champagne you’ve got,” you grin. What? He’s got the money for it, and you aren’t going to turn down a free drink on your birthday, of all days. Matty shrugs when the bartender looks at him to confirm, and she hands you the bottle in a cooler.
You turn to leave, go back to your friends, but Matty takes hold of your wrist, gentle enough that you could break out of it. Something stops you, though. “Happy birthday,” he mutters. “Thought about callin’, but…” he blows out a breath. “The way we left things, I didn’t know if you’d wanna hear from me.”
Feigning casualness, you shrug, pretending like the reminder of your heart-wrenching breakup doesn’t tear at you all over again. “Yeah… Well, you’re here now,” you say matter-of-factly. “How’ve you been?” you ask, despite knowing the answer. Over the last six months, you’ve taken some kind of twisted pleasure in keeping tabs on him, in watching his life fall apart.
The two of you split in April, leaving you forced to move out of the apartment you loved that was in his name, nine days after you’d paid your half of the rent. June, he got arrested in a drunken bar fight; July crashed his car, the car he loved more than almost anything, leaving it completely written off; August, the girl he’d been seeing since suspiciously soon after your breakup left him with no warning. Meanwhile, you’ve had a promotion, gotten into the perfect relationship and everything is falling neatly into place.
Your reaction to him being around is involuntary, you tell yourself, fucking Pavlovian. You were together for three fucking years, of course your body still responds to him. It’s still learning what it’s like to live without him. Matty sighs, and you jolt out of your reverie as you remember you asked him a question. “Not great,” he admits. “Drinkin’ alone on a Friday night not tip you off?” he says, bitterness tracing his tone. “And yourself?”
“Oh, I’ve been great,” you say blithely. “I’m making great money, I’m in love, properly this time,” you can’t resist adding. “And you just bought me a bottle of champagne and told me everything sucks for you! What more could a girl want on her birthday?”
Matty scoffs. “You’re still the same,” he says coolly. “Bratty when you’re not getting fucked right, huh?” he adds, your stomach swooping at his words.
You don’t know what makes you admit it, some heady combination of mixed drinks and Matty’s presence for the first time in months overcoming all sense, but you murmur, “M’not. He’s not as good as you. S’the only thing I miss.” You try to weaken the admission.
Matty’s eyes light up, and you groan internally. “Is that so?” His grip tightens on your wrist and you stumble towards him when he tugs on it, a sickening pulse of arousal dripping down your spine. “Got everything you want, huh? Even down to your perfect little boyfriend. But you think about me when he’s fucking you, don’t you?” he breathes, something hard and dangerous in his tone, your heart thudding traitorously as he leans closer. 
“I… That’s not true.” you say, but the wavering of your voice betrays you, and he smirks wickedly.
“You can’t lie to me, baby. I know you too well.” The statement lodges in your throat like you’ve dry-swallowed a pill, the truth ringing disgustingly clear. “What do you say? You want one last good fuck, for old times’ sake?”
You should pull away. You need to pull away. You have to pull away. But you can’t. “Once a cheater, always a cheater,” you say. Matty’s eyes darken, but you know he took note of the most crucial element first: it wasn’t a refusal.
“I never cheated on you,” Matty says seriously. “I did a lot of other shit, I know I did, but not that. Never that.”
You swallow hard. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“One more time. One more fuck. I need you out of my system,” you breathe, and you could almost cum from the filthy look on his face. Guiltily, you slink to the bathroom, casting furtive glances around and praying nobody spots you trailing after Matty and slipping behind a locked door.
Matty slams you against the door the second it shuts, devouring you in a harsh kiss, teeth and tongue sliding together almost violently. Having his hands on you again feels horrifyingly good, nauseatingly familiar. He’s hard, you can feel as he presses his body against yours, and you whimper pathetically into his mouth. “God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” Matty groans, like he can’t help himself. “Makes me sick. Been fuckin’ dying for you, baby.”
“So hurry up,” you snap. “I know you’re here alone, but I have people who care, and not much time before one of them notices I’m missing.”
“Such a brat,” Matty teases. “Need a good fuck to shut you up, yeah? S’alright, baby. Daddy’s here now. Gonna give you what you need.” The bottom falls out of your stomach and his words, a helpless, strangled moan escaping you. “Oh, missed your Daddy, have you, darling? Not given your little boyfriend my name, right?”
“N-no,” you stammer. “He… he wouldn’t understand. You’re my Daddy, couldn’t replace you.” Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your mind dizzy with desire, the words spilling from your lips without permission.
You’d forgotten how it feels with him, how Matty gets you sick with lust, thick and palpable in the air of the small room. “Good girl,” he croons. “Bend over for Daddy, yeah? I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”
You obey, the sight of your reflection sickening. You look fucked-out already, flushed red and panting. Matty’s hands come to rest on your hips, stroking appreciatively over the curve of your ass and pushing your too-short dress up around your hips. Torturously slow, he pulls your panties off, motioning for you to step out of them when they hit the floor. “I’m keeping these,” he says, slipping the scrap of lace into his pocket. “Something to remember you by, yeah?”
Wrapped up in his touch as you were, the reminder that this is a one-time thing shocks you like you’ve been doused with ice water. Right now, you don’t have a fucking clue why you even broke up, not when his fingers are so achingly close to your dripping core. “God, Matty, please!” you choke out, widening your legs desperately. 
“Give me a minute, baby. Missed this pretty cunt so much. Gotta make sure I don’t forget a thing, if this is the last time m’gonna get to have you.” He brushes his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the barest touch over your swollen clit. Meeting your gaze in the dingy mirror, Matty wraps his lips around his wet fingers, moaning exaggeratedly as he sucks them clean. “God, missed the way you taste, darling. Sweetest fucking girl I’ve ever had,” he promises, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans.
You squirm, cold porcelain biting into your thighs. You hear the sound of a foil wrapper tearing open, and before you can process, Matty slides into you, your knees buckling at the sudden fullness. “F-fuck,” you whimper, the feeling of being wholly surrounded by him familiar as he thrusts deep into you, pleasure cascading over your bones.
“God, you feel so fucking good, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Daddy’s gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name,” Matty promises, shushing you soothingly as you whimper. His hips slam against yours, ecstasy flooding your veins as your thighs bash against the sink. He fists a hand in your hair, dragging you up to meet your own gaze in the mirror. “Look at yourself, baby. Look how gorgeous you are, falling apart on my dick. Right where you should be, hm?” he murmurs, heat flooding your belly as you watch yourself take his cock over and over. “He could never fuck you like this, huh? Whose girl are you, really?”
“M’yours, Daddy. Yours, still yours, all yours,” you babble, cunt clenching wantonly around him as his smirk grows and his pace speeds. You moan horrifyingly loud when he hits that spot inside of you, too dizzy with desire to control your noises.
“Shh, baby, shh. Try not to be so noisy, yeah? Can’t let anyone know what we’re doin’ in here, that this lying fucking bastard has you split open and begging on his cock.” He throws your words from your final fight back in your face, pinching your clit meanly and fucking you deep. You can’t hold back another whimpering scream, and he scoffs. “Needy little whore can’t keep quiet, huh?” he murmurs, sliding two of his fingers into your mouth. Eagerly, you suck on them, your moans muffled as saliva pools under your tongue.
Heat scorches through you, every thrust of Matty’s hips and grunt that falls from his lips sending an illicit spark of pure pleasure racing up your spine. You can’t think, can barely breathe, choked in desperate lust that drips out of you and soaks him. He’s right, you can’t remember anything but him, his name circling your head, denting your brain out of shape. Nothing but Matty, Matty, Matty. “This fuckin’ pussy drives me insane, baby. Always so wet for me, so wet for your Daddy. Could have this all the time, if you wanted.”
His words cut through the fog in your mind as Matty slides his fingers free from your mouth to let you answer. “What do you mean?” you stammer, your disloyal heart skipping a beat.
“We had issues, yeah. But we were good together,” Matty murmurs, rubbing distracting circles into your clit, training you into giving the right response. “I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last six months. About us.” He slams his hips against yours on the final word, pleasure roiling in your stomach, every muscle in your body stringing taut. “I want another try. I know it would be better this time. I’d be better,” he promises, nails digging possessively into your hips.
“Matty, I–” You’re at a loss for words. His face crumples almost imperceptibly; if you weren’t so attuned to him, you wouldn’t have known.
“S’okay, baby. Fucked you too dumb to answer, I get it. You wanna be a good girl and cum for Daddy?” You nod wildly, his circles over your clit getting tighter and faster and you whimper helplessly, but you don’t miss how he’s stopped meeting your eyes.
Ecstasy winds around your veins, sticky, hot desire pinning you still as Matty fucks into you. “Fuck, Daddy, m’gonna–” you gasp out, the tension in your body finally breaking, stars going supernova behind your eyelids. Your legs tremble, your entire body going limp as waves of pleasure swirl in your stomach and buffet your organs.
“I’ve got you, baby,” Matty murmurs soothingly. “Daddy’s got you. Whenever you want, I’ll be here,” he promises, and a split-second later you feel his cock pulsing inside of you, the feeling of his cum spilling in your cunt sorely missing.
It takes a few moments before your legs have stopped shaking enough for you to stand, Matty supporting your waist as you clutch your abused muscles. “We should… I should get back out there,” you say, raking your fingers through your hair in an effort to tame it. You both look well-fucked, the question of how you’re going to explain your absence rattling around your mind. Matty meets your eyes one last time, looking over his shoulder as he unlocks the door.
“When you get bored of him, call me. I’ll be waiting.”
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rainerioun · 2 months
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𝖧𝖮𝖶 𝖣𝖮 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖸 𝖵𝖨𝖤𝖶 𝖸𝖮𝖴? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.
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— Hello! I thought I'd try and give a more in-depth reading. Interestingly, some of the piles seem to be similar. Perhaps this reading is meant for just a few people. I tried to keep it pretty general and unbiased whether we're talking about platonic or romantic connections, but it seems like there are hints of romantic feelings in all of them. However, if you're inquiring about a friendship or something similar, feel free to take what resonates and ignore the rest. <3
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HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.
Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.
MUST READ + MASTERLIST
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PILE ONE
How Do They View You? King of Wands | Queen of Swords | Death.
To start, this person respects you heavily. They perceive you as someone exuding confidence and leading by example. You've influenced them at the very least. If you're experiencing change or have recently undergone a transformation, they want you to know they're proud of you.
How Do They View You? Dragon : Seeing One's Most True Self, Balancing Ego. | Oyster : Patient, Secret-Keeper, Hiding Inner Treasures.
They see the real you, not just the image you project. If you're shy or uncertain, they want to remind you not to underestimate yourself, and to embrace your genuine beauty and intelligence. They know that everyone else wants to see it too. I believe that they might perceive your confidence as a sort of façade.
How Do They View You? Trickster — Light : Transcending Convention, Stuffiness and Predictable Behavior. Shadow : Manipulating Others Through Duplicity.
I didn't view this card negatively; it felt more like confirmation of what I said earlier. This person understands that you don't reveal everything and perhaps even play a role, though it may not be intentional. They recognize your tendency to use humor as a shield, but they wish you would let them in a bit more because they can see through you already.
How Do They Feel Around You? Determination, Balance, Cleanse, Magic, Protection.
When this person is around you, they experience a sense of balance and comfort. They feel a protective instinct towards you, given what they know about you, or vice versa. They long to express their love and appreciation more openly and receive it in return. Reach out to them more often!
Additional. Photograph : Looking at Your Photos, Missing You, Nostalgia, Make New Memories.
They miss you if there's any current separation or lack of communication. They might even be keeping an eye on you, whether through social media or mutual connections, just to ensure you're doing alright.
Extra: Aquarius, Change, 10, Unique, Libra, Scorpio, Emotions, Bittersweet, Funny, Summer Blues, Phone Call.
Alien Blues : Vundabar | Fine Line : Harry Styles | I Wanna Be Yours : Artic Monkeys.
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PILE TWO
How Do They View You? Ten of Wands [Reversed] | Nine of Swords [Reversed] | Knight of Pentacles.
This person acknowledges your ambition but finds it amusing that you can also be a bit absent-minded. It's not meant as an insult but more of a playful tease. They believe you sometimes overlook the risks around you because you're so captivated and excited by what lies ahead, which can come off as slightly immature. It reminds them of a naive child who might need a gentle nudge in the right direction, so you don't leap off the cliff hoping to grab the sun. I can picture someone stumbling clumsily while the other bursts into loud laughter.
How Do They View You? Moth : Impulsive, Hasty, Wishful | Bee : Earnest, Hardworking, Democratic.
I find this dynamic incredibly endearing. They see you as someone goofy or even whimsical. You're sensitive and vibrant, drawing people to you effortlessly, which they appreciate. Sometimes, it seems like they want to slow you down a bit so you don't scurry off too quickly. You give off a jittery vibe at times.
How Do They View You? Rescuer — Light : Provides Strength and Support to Others in Crisis. Acts out of Love with no Expectation of Reward. Shadow : Assumes that the Rescued will Reciprocate. Goddess — Light : The Feminine Expressed through Wisdom, Nature, Life Force and Sensuality. Shadow : Exploitation of the Female Nature and Form.
This person admires your kindness and charm. I can picture them giggling nonstop whenever they're with you. It's as if you have no worries, just frolicking through life carefree.
How Do They Feel Around You? Sweetness, Success, Rejection.
Once more, you're incredibly sweet to them. Normally, they feel content in your company, but there might be moments when they feel rejected. If they've made a move and you've turned them down, that's the reason. They need time to move on and accept that boundary if don't reciprocate their feelings. If not, it's because they've been dropping hints left and right, and you're just too oblivious to pick up on them.
Additional. Stabbed in the Back : Heartbreak, Pain, Separation, Shocking Attack. Camera : Remininscing, Keepsake, Perception, Learn from the Past, Make Memories. Coffee Cup : Meeting and Conversing, Savoring the Moment, Feeling Uplifted, Friendship.
Yeah, they're definitely feeling a bit disheartened that their attempts to win you over aren't hitting the mark or are just going unnoticed. But hey, you don't owe them anything, so no need to feel guilty. Regardless, they want to keep being part of your life, cherishing the friendship you've both formed.
Extra : Pisces, Indecisive, Kind, 7, Individuality, Unique, Communication, Taurus, Leo, Cancer, Junebug, Wheel, Fields.
Dangerously In Love : Beyoncé. | Hanging Your Picture Up To Dry : Cut Worms.
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[18+, SUGGESTIVE.]
PILE THREE
How Do They View You? Ace of Swords, Six of Swords, Wheel of Fortune [Reversed].
I wasn't anticipating this kind of reading when I shuffled the cards. I almost reshuffled to get a more generic and 'safe' result, but I decided against it. It seems this person likes you a little more than they probably should. They perceive you as someone incredibly self-assured and inspiring, maybe even a bit out of their league. Yet, despite feeling like they're chasing you, they don't seem to mind the playful challenge and are willing to put in the extra effort to break through your defenses.
How Do They View You? Cheetah : Solar Force, Action, Achievement. | Starfish : Beautiful, Alluring, Superficial or Shallow.
This seems pretty clear-cut, lol. They view you as someone with the potential to reach any goal, maybe because your appearance tends to influence people without you even trying. They're strongly attracted to you, but they're also aware they're not alone in admiring you.
How Do They View You? Queen — Light : Radiates the Regal Feminine. Uses Her Benevolent Authority to Protect Others. Shadow : Becomes Arrogant When Authority Is Challenged. Controlling and Demanding. Hero/Heroine — Light : Passion for a Journey of Personal Empowerment. Shadow : Escapism and a False Sense of Heroism.
They definitely put you on a pedestal in their mind. Sometimes you can get a little sassy or assertive because you're clear about what you want, and they find that irresistible. They truly appreciate the natural authority you exude.
How Do They Feel Around You? Passion, Trust, Hunger.
Do I really need to elaborate? For my own sake, I'll keep it brief. You light a fire within them, and they feel like they cannot control such feelings.
Additional. The Snake : Competition, Enemy, Clever, Malicious, Look Over Your Shoulder, The Other Woman. Kisses : Unconditionally Loving, Giving and Receiving Affection, Falling in Love.
As I mentioned, they feel this urge to compete for your affection with others. They might even experience a twinge of jealousy seeing someone else getting your attention while they're so invested in you. My advice is, if this is a secret admirer or a third-party situation, it's best to tell them where they stand. If you're not interested, it's important not to lead them on. However, if polyamory is part of your dynamic, then there's no need to worry about what I'm saying; it seems like they enjoy the thrill of the chase.
Extra: 6, Virgo, Possessive, Cancer, Fussy, Moon, Emotions, Strong Needs, Candles, Stack of Papers, Show Off, Linger, Lust.
Fields of Elation : Sleep Token | Somebody Else : Bad Omens | Lost in the Fire : The Weeknd.
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248 notes · View notes
cyyfics · 8 months
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Guilty Desperation
Pairing: !Simon Petrikov x GN! Reader
Warning: NSFW! At the end.
Synopsis: Simon, disheveled and manic calls you on the phone asking if he can come over to talk. You didn’t think it would end like this, but you aren’t complaining!
Pronoun stuff: mainly GN, I think the nsfw part is ALSO pretty good at being GN?? If not Lemme know
Note: also guys if I ever reuse the same gif just ignore that cuz there’s not a lot (•__•)
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SFW part
You were doing your normal everyday things, sitting around at your kitchen island sipping from the mug in your hand when you suddenly got a phone call. It wasn’t exactly a good time to be getting a phone call, it was early in the morning and not even the roosters were awake. In fact, despite being morning, it was still eerily dark and chilling outside. You wouldn’t wanna be out at this time of night, that’s for sure.
You picked up your phone hesitantly, eyes scrunched as you tried to figure out who’d be calling you at this late hour and to no one’s surprise, it was Simon Petrikov. You had adapted this lovely friendship with this man for a couple months now, you’d maybe even go as far as to say that the two of you are best friends. “simon? what’re you doing up this late, and why’re you calling me?” your tone didn’t show much concern for the poor man at first.
“I’m sorry, Y/n, I know it’s late.”
You can hear him let out a deep sigh before talking again “do you think I could come over to see you? i- i don’t feel so good r’ now.” he slightly slurred on his words as he spoke on the phone, on most days you’d have thought it was from the drinking but on the phone today it sounded more like he was just tired.
“Sure, whatever you need. I don’t mind.”
You said that as if you weren’t secretly hoping when he had called you that he wanted to come and see you, you didn’t wanna admit to yourself that you liked that man than you wanted to, but it wasn’t hard to see especially with the way you cheered silently after accepting his request.
“Thanks Y/n, just ‘need to see you.” Simon can be heard rustling around a little, and you thought maybe he was walking somewhere. “How long will you be? Should I come get you?” You were a bit worried for him at this time of night, especially with the light fog in the air outside. “I’ll be fine, should only be about a minute or two.” He said to you before you heard a little more rustling.
“Simon, you live maybe thirty minutes away from me. How do you expect to be here that quickly?” You jokingly asked him, twirling a piece of hair around your finger. You didn’t expect the answer you got. “… started walking early, was just hoping you’d be awake.” It had definitely surprised you, you furrowed your eyebrows as you spoke into your phone.
“..really?” You asked with slight disbelief, “yes.. what’s so hard to believe about that?” Simon asked from the other end of the phone “but what if I wasn’t awake??” You questioned the poor man “would’ve waited ‘til you woke up.” Simon answered back. Then he hung up. You were about to call him back and asked why he did that before hearing a knock at your door.
You swung the door open and was met with Simon, the old man looking disheveled and worn out. You took him inside, helping him through the door way as he stumbled a little. “Simon, what’s wrong? You drink too much or something?” You asked him, hands worriedly grasped onto his shoulders. “Didn’t even touch a drop tonight, Y/n, had too much to think about.”
Simon walked past you, making his way to flip onto your couch, face pressed against the cushions. “What’s wrong? Clearly something is up.” You stood by the doorway, crossing your arms and giving the man a certain concerned look. “It’s just- Betty.” Simon let out a huff, he had often came over venting about missing her and stuff so it wasn’t new information for you.
“I understand, you miss her-“ you came up to him to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but he placed a hand on your wrist to halt you for a moment- before letting you. “It- it’s not that.” He lets out a deep sigh before holding onto his head “that’s the thing. It’s not that.” He sounded upset, you were worried for him.
You sat beside him on the couch as he sat up, slowly placing your head on his shoulder to hopefully provide some comfort. “Talk to me.” You encouraged him, moving your hand down to grab at his hand. Squeezing it slightly to comfort him, he sighed before reluctantly giving in and curling his fingers to intertwine with yours.
“I just- I think- no. I know. I like someone else now, but I feel guilty because of Betty.” Simon didn’t like admitting it at all, and you couldn’t blame him one bit. You frowned before wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Simon didn’t hug you back, but he found comfort in your warmth, resting his head on your shoulder as you hugged him.
“Who-“ he cut you off.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Always been you.” Simon’s voice grew quiet at the end there and it sounded like he was about to cry. You used one of your arms to move up and pet his head with your hand, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I like you too.” You whispered back to him, the air suddenly becoming stagnant.
There was a pause in time as he slowly lifted his head up to look at you, his eyes searching you for any sign of doubt. Like maybe you were just saying that to make him feel better. But he didn’t find any, instead he found you looking at him with eyes full of such love and admiration for him. How had he not seen that look before?
Simon moved his hands up to clutch at your shoulders, pulling you into a hug against him. “I wanna be yours, Simon.” You didn’t wanna say it but you couldn’t help it as it left your mouth, “I do too. But- Betty.” Simon looked to the side as he thought about her guiltily. “Simon, I understand. And you don’t have to rush into anything-“ he cut you off yet again.
“And what if I want to? What if I wanna rush into things with you? Do everything I’ve ever wanted to with you? Take you places, live a whole life with you-“ Simon found himself rambling as he held onto you a little tighter, before softening a little and melting into your arms.
You held him a little closer, “you don’t have to feel guilty Simon, but if you need time..” you started to say “that’s the thing. I don’t have enough time in the world to be without you, I feel so guilty but time and life are constantly fleeting- I wanna be together with you.” Simon started to get teary eyed.
“I want that too.” You spoke up “then say yes. Say you’ll be with me, please.” Simon grabbed at your face gently, making you look up at him. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be together with you.” You couldn’t even control yourself, earlier that day you were fighting your own feelings for him, and now you were literally dating him.
NSFW STARTS NOW
NSFW warnings: humping/rutting idk, I think that’s all that has to go here??
Simon and you looked at each other for a moment, feeling the static in the air. It was like something just sparked in the two of you. Simon leaned down and kissed you, his lips pressed up against yours. They felt slightly chapped, like maybe they’d gotten dry from the cold outside or something.
As he was about to pull away you found yourself grabbing onto his collar, pulling him right back to your lips. Simon was surprised but leaned into your very eager touch, his lips up against yours again. The two of you began to then switch up the intensity, kissing him life your life depended on it. Your hands moved from his collar to tangle in his hair, ripping a soft groan from Simon as the two of you kissed.
Not long after that action, you had felt something uncomfortable pressing up against your hip, you didn’t wanna pull away from the kiss so all you did was slip your hand down to figure out what it was. Simon let out a quiet moan as your hand had evidently brushed over his crotch, so that’s what was rubbing up against you.
Simon desperately pulled you back in for another kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips as his hips rutted slowly against your hand looking for some friction. You didn’t mind giving it to him but at that point you wanted some too, moving your hand away so you could then press yourself up against his hardened crotch.
Your clothed front rubbed up against his, stimulating both of you guys at the same time. It felt messy, it felt hot and slightly uncomfortable, the two of you felt just like silly hormonal teenagers in that moment. Neither of you could stop, desperate hands clinging to each other.
Simons hand grabbed at your waist, pulling you closer as his length rubbed against your sensitive crotch. You were both moaning, kissing each other deeply, not caring about the messiness the two of you were making from the saliva all over each of your mouths and chins.
Eventually Simon ended up cumming first, but his eager self didn’t stop. It felt overstimulating for him but he still wanted to make you feel good too, and not long after you ended up falling apart in his arms too. You let out a soft cry as you came in your pants, the both of you having made an annoying mess. “Damn, now my pants are soiled..” Simon hissed out, hands on his hips as he inspected his now soaked through pants.
“Then take them off.”
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New Tattoos ~Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagine~
Summary: Soap sees something new on his Liutenant. Luckily for you, you get to enjoy his new hidden tattoo.
Author’s Note: Still in love with Ghost. Also I finished the rest on my phone so if there’s any mistakes or anything like that, just ignore it.
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings:
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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Everyone knew that Ghost had a set of tattoos on his forearm. It was something that couldn't be missed whenever he wore a short sleeve shirt or when his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His tattoos had a meaning to him.
Then came when you both married and had kids. Ghost didn't like to wear his wedding band during duty. But he did wanted to keep you and your kids close to him in some way or another.
So imagine Soap's surprise when he saw something on Ghost's chest where his heart would be.
"What's that Lt?" Soap asked Ghost as he watched his lieutenant put on a new shirt.
They had just finished a mission and had to get fixed and cleaned up before they could head back home. Even then, your children complained whenever Ghost came home, smelling "yucky." So Ghost made sure to get cleaned up before coming back home on every mission.
"What's what?" Ghost asked him.
"Get a new tattoo?" Soap asked him.
"Maybe."
"Of what?"
"Why would you want to know?" Ghost asked.
"Just curious."
"Curiosity killed the cat."
"Yes but satisfaction brought it back. Come on Lt. I wanna know," Soap said.
"It's nothing," Ghost said before grabbing his stuff and walking out.
Though every time his greeting from you and the kids were the same, he always treasured it. Before he stepped foot into his house, Simon always made sure to take off his mask.
"Daddy!" His kids yelled out as they ran over and jump onto him. Simon picked up his two children before giving them a kiss on the cheek.
"Where's mommy?" Simon asked the two.
"I'm coming!" You said as you walked over to him. You kissed his cheek first before his lips. "Sorry, was washing the dishes."
"It's alright. As long as you're here," Simon smiled at you.
"Come on kids. Let daddy put his things away and help me set up the table for dinner," you tell your kids.
"Okay mommy!"
"I want to stay with daddy," your daughter pouted as she held onto Simon.
"She can stay with me love. Won't be too long," Simon said before giving you a quick kiss.
After dinner and getting the kids to bed, both you and Simon were able to have your alone time. It was no doubt that Simon wanted to enjoy every inch of you when he came back from a mission. And you enjoyed every inch of him as well.
“Soap might’ve gotten a glimpse of my new tattoo,” Simon told you as you lied on his chest. Your thumb lightly rubbed against Simon’s tattoo that was etched above his heart.
“Mmm. And what did he say?”
“Barely got to see it so he asked about it.”
“I don’t understand why you don’t tell him. You’re obviously close to him.”
“I like it better when you’re the only one who can see it. And maybe the kids,” Simon told you.
A little after your daughter was born, Simon had gotten a tattoo, dedicated to the three of you. Three triangles connected to one another. A very simple design but something only you and Simon would know and something that wouldn’t be used against him in case he was ever caught during a mission.
“Good. Because I like it whenever I’m able to see it,” you tell him, kissing the tattoo.
“I know you do.”
“How much you want to bet on Soap trying to guess what it means?” You joked.
“No need to bet, pet. He’s never going to get it,” Simon told you.
“You have to let me know what he thinks it means when he does see it.”
“Alright.”
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cranberryjuice-posts · 4 months
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Busy being yours to fall for somone new
GO READ PART ONE NOW‼️‼️‼️‼️
P t 1 here
Pairings - Abby Anderson x fem! Veterinarian reader
AN: I lowkey this reminds me some of Evelyn Hugo’s apology to ciela lmao 😭 (it’s not plagiarized just inspired)
Synopsis- abby can’t live without you (that’s some downbad lesbians shit)
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“I don’t have sex with friends”
That’s all that ran through Abby’s mind for the next 4 months.. winter was starting to come to an end, Abby would be lying if she didn’t say she struggled some— that is trying to get over you. The cold bed, the empty apartment when manny was gone, the avoidment in your voice when she talked to you.. everything that she missed loved and more about you, that’s what she struggled to get over.
——
There were the times when you just ignored her -
Abby had walked towards the animal kennels with Alice in tow. The happy dog ran ahead of her and jumped onto your back as you were closing the pasture gates.
You smiled and bent down. “Hey sweetie” you spoke in a baby voice while scratching behind the dogs ear. Abby smiled down at you, she wanted to say something but was to worried about ruining things.
She watched as you stood up and pointed at the clipboard before turning and leaving calling Alice to follow you. Abby rubbed her eyes and sighed, she knew she fucked up but shit did you really have to act like she didn’t even exist.
——
Then the time she was caught by her friends-
“Right and I was thinking what if we watched legally blonde” Nora smiled and held up the CD. The group was currently inside Abby and mannys apartment having yet again another movie night. Yeah Nora and Owen were arguing over which movie but once again abby didn’t care. Hell she didn’t even realize when the group went quiet.
“Abs..” Nora spoke and put a hand on her knee.
“Huh?” She snapped back into the conversation.
“Legally blonde or The hot chick” Nora raised an eyebrow guestering her head towards the tv.
Manny shook his head and leaned into the conversation. “She upset over her breakup” a shared look of confused passed over the group.
“The hell Are You Talking About” Owen asked.
“Manny there is no break up—“ she started but was ultimately innerupted.
“We all could tell Abby” Mel looked over. “What ever was between you and Y/n sure as hell wasnt platonic I mean every-time we saw you two it was like we caught you two about to devour one another” Nora agreed along side manny but Owen remained confused and fustrated as he didn’t understand what they were talking about.
“Also it’s pretty weird that you and her haven’t actually hung out together along like before and rarely in together in the group since you laughed at Mona saying you two were together”
Abby groaned and covered her face with her hand. “Was it that obvious”
Mel shook her head. “Not really, I mean we noticed because were your friends but everyone else wouldn’t of suspected”
She remained quiet and sighed before dragging her hand down her face, her eyes becoming glassy something not common for the solider.
“Let’s Just Watch whatever dumbass movie Owen chose” she wiped her eyes and put her guard up once again.
——
Then lastly.. the time she dreamed about you-
Abby laid in her bed silently dreaming, the only noise being the grinding of her teeth. In her dream you were sitting in her waist.
“Abs what are you doing” you smiled as Abby started to let her hands go under your shirt and press against your stomach.
“Nothin~” she cooed and continued to tease you. Abby looked up at you with that same look she always gave that you knew you couldn’t resist.
“Stop looking at me like that” you laughed, you wore one of Abby’s shirts that while tight on her large on you. You playfully grabbed her chin and tilted your head.
“I have no idea what your talking about” Abby teased and let her hands wander before resting them on your hips. You leaned forward as if to kiss her but the kiss never met before Abby woke up in a cold sweat.
She felt some tears run down her face when she laid back and closed her eyes in defeat. Abby opened her eyes and looked up at the cieling. She reached over and touched the spot on the small mattress you had claimed as your own trying to find some sort of comfort but it was hopeless.
She knew she had no other choice than to go running back to you.
At the same time you laid in your empty bed you were messing with a dog tag necklace Abby had given you, the tag had her solider ID in the WLF engraved onto it. You chuckled remembering the time you had tried to give it back but Abby made you keep it since she had another.. you closed your eyes wanting to forget while trying so hard to not cry. You were the one who broke each-other up so Why the hell were you so hurt.
You knew you weren’t over her, I mean you were wearing her shirt as a nightgown still. Deep in thought, it was soon innerupted with a hard nock at your door. You raised an eyebrow at who would be here at 2am.
The door opened and you saw Abby standing in all her glory. Hair down, sweatpants and her sports bra with her muscles on full display.. a combo that use to and still does make you go weak.
“What” You yawned trying to act un-phased seeing her.
“Please can we talk—“
“Go back to your place Abigail” You stopped her and gave her a dirty look. You tried to shut your door but once again abby stopped you, you swore you hated and loved how strong she was. She walked in the apartment and closed the door.
Abby grabbed your arms and got down on her knees. Your eyes widened and you looked around embarrassed. “I. Love. You.” She sternly spoke. “Please.. let me love you right this time like I know I can” she begged and pressed your hands to her forehead. You were quiet. “I don’t care what anyone else has to say.. I don’t give a shit if the entire WLF hates me just as long as you are with me”
“You Need to go Abby I’m serious” you tried to pull your hands away. But Abby persisted she looked up.
“I know I know but please—“
“It’s late.. I’m tired.. it’s 2am and I really don’t wanna deal with your bullshit”
You turned your face away trying to show some kind of strength, You pulled your hands away and stepped back looking down waiting for Abby to leave.
She didn’t leave however.. Abby stood up and walked to you cupping your face, she rested her head against yours and after some silence she spoke. “I will never stop loving you..” that was all she said before leaving the apartment.
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A week passed-
You found yourself hanging out at a watering hole in a QZ near by. Some soliders had decided to have a bond-fire, you of-course managed to be dragged by your friends.
You had your hair pulled back and you wore a simple black bikini. You knew you were hot and you also knew there were a few men’s eyes on you.
You had also seen Abby slightly, her gaze transfixed onto you. Part of you wanted to go up to her but the other part told you not to, starting shit up with her would only end up in you hurt again.
You walked out the water with Leah following you. You laughed with the girl enjoying spending time with your friend when you felt a harsh smack on your ass.
“Hey there cutie” John a cocky solider stood behind you grinning sadisticly. You cringed at seeing him.
“What the fuck dude” Leah scoffed and tried to move you towards her but John grabbed your arm and pulled you into him.
“John let me go” you complained trying to push him away.
“Nah sweetheart I’m happy with you right here” he grinned and leaned his head down. You tilted your head back still uncomfortable.
“We got a problem” Abby stood at The shore with her strong arms crossed. You admired her simple yet attractive outfit of a black wife beater and dark green cargo pants.
“Nah Anderson we’re just fine you can go” John spoke defensively, still holding onto you right. A few people started to crowd around wondering what would happen.
“Oh yeah?” Abby spoke sarcastically walking more towards the water til she was closer to John and you. “Cause it fucking seems your forcing my girlfriend to feel your hard on”
John rolled his eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding” he grinned but his smile fell and his grip on you tightened. “Are you talking about that dumbass rumor Mona said some months back about you two fucking around- that was true” he scoffed.. You pushed him away and stumbled back into Abby.
She protectively wrapped an arm around your waist. “Yeah is that an issue” she started her stance getting more aggravated.
“I mean shit Abby.. i knew you looked like a fag but never expected you to actually be one” he scoffed with a sarcastic smile. “Besides we both know all Y/n needs is a man.. and I mean a real man not sone woman who thinks she tough just because she’s got some muscles”
“Really? Why don’t you come over here then and i can show you how much of a man I really am” Abby’s stance got more defensive all while her tone remained eerily calm. Some guys grabbed john and yelled at him pulling him away from Abby, they were stupid but not stupid enough to not know that someone would get hurt and it certainly wouldn’t be the woman they described as an ox.
Once they and the crowd that started to build left Abby grabbed your face- her entire demeanor changed. “Are You ok.. what else did he do did he—“
“No no” you shook your head and started to softly breath once again. You gently placed your hands ontop of hers which still had your face in her grasp and looked up at her. “Girlfriend?” You asked with a confused chuckle. “I thought.. I thought you didn’t want anyone else to know about you being…”
Abby blushed and nodded. “Y/n i told you i don’t care what anyone else thinks anymore, I want to love you proudly and openly.. I wasn’t lying that night i showed up to your place, I would give up everything for you” you pondered for a moment still deciding what to do before grabbing her face and kissing her softly yet passionately pouring all your emotion into it.
“I actually hate you” you chuckled and smiled at her gently while she grabbed your hips.
“Yeah I know” she grinned and kissed your forehead with a sigh of relief, You two were gonna be ok.. and you knew that, deep down you always knew that
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Hope you enjoyed thank you for all the love on pt 1 😭💗💗💗💗
@4rt3m1ss @redwlf843 @macaroni676 @azxulaa
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