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tojikai · 10 months

Text

SUNDERED

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 3.2k

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo intentionally runs into you when you’re buying groceries just to show you his girlfriend. The woman was your classmate from high school. At the first meeting, she was shy and tried avoiding your gaze but Satoru just had to call you and ask something about your daughter. Completely unnecessary but he’s just that much of a jerk. Once was considered an accident. But when it happened two, then three times, you already know that you have to change your shopping schedule.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo picks up his daughter from your house an hour late, rubbing on your face that he overslept because he spent “some time” with his girlfriend last night. Distasteful and disrespectful, but you let it slide cause he seems happy. You don’t want to be a killjoy, right? You were never his girlfriend, to begin with. Just someone he got pregnant from a one-night stand.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo posts pictures of his day out with his daughter online. His girlfriend carrying your kid as the three of them wear matching Mickey and Minnie Mouse headbands. You could only scroll past and continue your work to busy yourself. Maybe you should stop lurking around social media and just use your phone for important messages. Maybe you should also lose feelings for someone who never harbored genuine ones for you in the first place.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo always lets his girlfriend open the door for you when you’re picking up your daughter from his house on weekends. He leans back on the couch, watching you grab your daughter’s things, opening his arms to cuddle with his girlfriend before you even get to walk out the door. It made you feel pathetic and small but what can you do? There’s simply no place for you in that house.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo insists that you spend more time together for the sake of your daughter. You agreed to it and now, you had to sit in the back of the car with your daughter as he drives his girlfriend to work. It made you feel sick and nauseous that you were only able to spend half a day with them before you decided to go home and sleep the day away. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll find it in you to hate him.

“Mommy? Call her, love.” Gojo used a higher voice to encourage his daughter to call you. He knows that he was foul for what happened earlier. But what is he gonna do? He can’t reject his girlfriend’s request, plus it was only a ride. It’s not like she was with you for the whole day. Still, he doesn’t think it’s the reason why you left early. You might be feeling…tired. Even if it was Saturday yesterday and you have no work. You might still feel fatigued on Sunday, right?

“Mama!” The little girl mimicked pointing upstairs. Satoru sighed placing her little bag on a nearby chair as he made his way upstairs. He figured that if you’re still asleep, he could just wait for you to wake up and just look after his daughter here. You’re a single mother for 4 days a week, and on top of that, you also have work. You literally don’t have time to rest. He told himself that he needs to stop messing around just to get a reaction from you.

Reaching your room, Satoru knocked on the door three times, calling out your name when you didn’t answer. “Wait a second.” You voiced out from the other side, “I’m just gonna call my mom, can you wait for her?” You suppressed a cough at the end of the sentence but it didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. “Are you sick? I could take her back to my house, we’ll look after her until you feel better. ” The suggestion made your stomach churn. They get to play house with your kid and here you are, being miserable.

You shook your head, realizing how bitter you sounded. She wasn’t unkind in any way to your baby but something in you hurts when you think of them giving your daughter the family experience that you cannot provide. You and Satoru tried to work things out but you just can’t get on the same page. Instead of trying to be better for you and your daughter, he decided to fuck around and date someone else instead.

You wouldn’t say that your name was clean. What with a couple of threats such as finding someone who could act right. You just didn’t think that he’d really leave. It hurt but now you’re getting yourself used to the feeling. Maybe he just couldn’t act right with you. Because why is he so good with his girlfriend now? She tamed him, as he once boasted to you during a fight.

“I’m stuck with a child that I have with you, but not with you.” He pointed out, leaving a searing pain in your chest. “There’s no way I’m letting that happen.” Tears were starting to form in your eyes as the words come out of his mouth. How could he say something so cruel to you, the mother of his child? All you did was tell him that his girlfriend was getting kind of too much after she told you what to do with your child. And now he’s making you the villain.

“I just told her that—” You tried to explain, voice starting to shake. “If that’s all you did, she wouldn’t come to me crying, Y/N.” You just can’t believe that you’re fighting over this. You already have so much to think about and now this, you also have to be cautious about his girl. “She told you herself, I just didn’t want her telling me how to raise my child!”

“Of course, she wouldn’t tell me that you’re being harsh to her. Unlike you, she’s actually kind and considerate of other people’s feelings.” You looked down, letting out a strangled sob escape your throat before quickly wiping away the forming tears in your eyes as you turn away from him. Why was he never this defensive of you? He didn’t even try to fight for you when his girlfriend convinced him to take your daughter with them on a trip. Without your permission.

And now he’s talking as if you’ve been nothing but a disturbance in his relationship with her. Everything's just unfair. Yet, you just let it slide because you wanted nothing but peace for your baby. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you anymore, Satoru. You’ve said enough.” You sniffed, walking to your daughter’s room to check if the noises woke her up. Satoru was left standing there, processing all the things that he said.

He watched you disappear into the dark hallway of your apartment, shoulders shaking with your head hung low. Even if he can’t see your face, he can tell that you’re crying and it made him feel like shit. He went overboard, didn’t he? “Fuck.” He threw his keys on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. He wanted to apologize but at the same time, he wanted to prove his point. His girlfriend was only trying to help and you took it the wrong way.

At that time, Satoru thought that maybe she was right. You’re just getting kinda jealous that she could spend time with your daughter and Satoru more and now you’re being too sensitive, letting out your irritation on her. She said that it was a natural feeling for a mother to feel that way but Satoru can’t let you treat his girlfriend like shit just because of your pettiness and jealousy. You have to learn to adjust and accept that some things are gonna be the way they are because of your setup.

As for you, you felt hurt. Neglected even when you know that you’re not supposed to receive as much attention, much less protection from him. His priority is your child, but not you. You have no choice but to talk and work everything out with them for the sake of your daughter. You know that you could start dating someone of your choice but you wished that it would be that easy. You just want to focus on your daughter and if you’re gonna find someone, you want them to love her as much as you do.

You wonder what you lacked that couldn’t soften him the way he did to her. You started to think that you’re the problem and that is why you couldn’t fix him as easily as she did.

You stood up, opening the door for him seeing your two-year-old reach out to you. “Mama’s sick, love, sorry.” You covered your mouth, blinking away the heaviness in your eyes. Satoru watched you pack your daughter’s things. “If you’re gonna be busy, just tell me. I’ll just contact Mom. She can be with you for a few days, just until my cold is gone.” You murmured, counting the diapers to put in her baby bag.

You don’t want to be away from her, but letting her stay with you when you’re like this puts her at risk and that’s the last thing you want. You can’t stand seeing your daughter through pain and you’re pretty sure it’s the same for his dad. Begrudgingly, you placed the bag in front of Satoru before reaching over for her favorite toy. You smiled at how she squealed when she saw it.

“You know we’re never too busy to take care of her. Just rest, so you’ll get better soon.” You swallowed, nodding your head slowly as you thought of what else they should take. “Yeah, I’ll be picking her up.” You kept your distance from her, sitting down as you felt your head spinning a bit. “Do you...do you have medicine, though? I could get some if you want,” Satoru can tell that you’re really sick and despite his situation with you, he can’t just let you be when you’re like this. You’re still the mother of his child.

“No, it’s fine. I have some here. Just take care of her.” Your voice was hoarse and your daughter was starting to reach out for you again as if sensing that something was wrong so you urged Satoru to get going. “Be good, okay?” You waved as she watched you with her curious eyes but waved back, nonetheless. You wouldn’t admit it but you feel envious that they could be happy together with her. You’re afraid that one day she’ll prefer being with them over you.

As for your feelings for Satoru, you hated thinking or talking about it. You’re obviously in love with him, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that yourself, either. You fought too much, you hurt each other too much. Other than that, there’s no point for your feelings now that he has someone he really loves and truly cares about.

You never experienced the boyfriend-girlfriend stage with Satoru. It’s like one day, you just woke up and you’re already parents. You can’t blame him for not having real feelings for you. You do your best to be as civil to them as you can be but sometimes his girlfriend’s just out of bounds. And after a couple of painful fights with Satoru regarding her, it just became too much for you.

You’re just tired of feeling like a wedge to someone’s healthy relationship. That’s how Satoru makes you feel and you just can’t take any ache from that.

Another thing that you deny to yourself is the hope that you might fix this all. There are always what-ifs in your mind, and you would never tell Satoru about them. He’ll probably laugh at you and your threats that you’re gonna be with someone who truly makes you happy. You would never destroy his relationship just because yours didn’t work. If you have to cover your eyes, look away and pretend to be deaf every time they’re around you, you would.

You often think about what it would be like if he settled down with his girl; if they decided to get married and have a family of their own. You don’t want your daughter to feel left out. You don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t have her own family in the middle of them. You also wondered if you’d have moved on by then. You hope so. You don’t want to be this pitiful and heartbroken forever.

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

After a couple of days, you’re finally feeling well. You got up early and sent Satoru a text that you’ll be picking up your baby in a few hours. You missed her and her giggles so much. The house was clean during the past days but you very much prefer it to be messy, as long a she’s there. You’ll never mind getting up in the middle of the night or waking up extra early for her.

Arriving at Satoru’s residence, you rang the doorbell as you waited patiently for someone to open the gate for you. You were hoping that it would be your baby girl, extending her short, chubby arms to you but instead, it was Satoru’s girlfriend. “Come in, she’s still playing inside.” She smiled at you, opening the metal door wider. “Thanks, I messaged Satoru that I was coming to pick her up. Is she ready?” You asked her as you walked to their front door.

“She is, but she’s kinda fussy about it. Satoru bought her a huge playpen and she just wouldn’t get out of it. She’s enjoying a lot.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and you can’t help but feel conscious of how you look. Opening the door, you were welcomed by the sight of Satoru lying down with his daughter in the said enclosure. She was fiddling with a toy as they watched on the big screen.

Her favorite toy was at the corner, and for some reason, it left a pang in your chest.

“Sweetie, someone’s here for you.” You hated the way she phrased it but you know that she doesn’t mean for it to be offensive or rude to you. The little girl looked up with her binky in her mouth, blinking before smiling at you. “Oh, you’re already here. She wouldn’t let me out of the playpen.” Satoru explained, probably thinking that you didn’t appreciate that it had to be his girlfriend opening the door for you.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” This place always made you feel like you’re an outsider. Probably because you are and it didn’t help that they’re making you feel like it. “Mama!” She waved at you, pointing at the screen as she sat down. “That’s a nice show, love. Maybe we could just continue watching it at home?” You know that she doesn’t have a big playpen there. The screen isn’t that big, either. She suddenly lied back down, whimpering as she kicked her tiny feet. You felt like telling her that you’d work hard to buy her that too.

She doesn’t want to go home yet and that’s what you feared.

“Baby, mom’s here. She missed you.” Satoru called out but to no avail. He came to lift her up, trying to see if she was just being too lazy to get up. Her eyes were glued to the television as she sucked on her pacifier. She was too into it, pointing the show to everyone before smiling at you. Oh, how you missed that smile. “Let’s go, now.” You cooed at her, softly clapping your hands.

When you tried to reach for her as Satoru leans her close to you, she started wiggling around. “Down, Mama! Wait.” Her cute language never ceases to make your heart swell with joy despite the fact that she’s trying to get away from you. She runs away, stopping to look around before going to Satoru’s girlfriend and hugging her leg. She was in awe when she picked up your daughter.

So… she’s who your daughter’s referring to by…Mama. You could almost hear your heart shatter at the realization. Since when did she start calling her Mama?

“You don’t wanna go home yet? But Mom’s here.” She talked in her baby voice and you don’t know if you’re gonna be happy that she treats your daughter really well or jealous that she came running to her when she don’t want to do something. Satoru went up to them, leaving you standing a few meters away. You don’t like what you’re seeing aside from your daughter.

“It’s not good to ignore Mama.” Satoru tapped her nose with his finger which she cutely swatted away, eliciting a chuckle from him. “Y/N, I was thinking… maybe I could just, uh, take her home later in the day. This playpen just arrived yesterday and you know how kids are…” He laughed nervously, struggling to find a nice way to say that your daughter won’t be coming home yet.

“Yesterday, I was joking about giving her playmates and she was so excited, she was running around.” His girlfriend giggled as she shared. It was a simple story yet it was a thorn to your heart. Why does it seem like your every nightmare is coming to life? You just smiled at her, understanding that she was talking about giving your daughter siblings. Satoru was silent, but you didn’t dare look at his face. You know that it’s in their future plans and you don’t have to see him smiling about it too.

“That’s adorable..” You don’t know what else to say, so you just nodded your head slowly, blinking quickly so as to bring yourself back to reality. His place was huge compared to your apartment. The playpen looks so much more comfortable than the crib she has at your place. She has new toys and a mom and dad by her side. So, now she doesn’t want to leave. Suddenly, you can feel the weakness in your knees from when you were sick starting to come back. You cleared your throat as you straightened yourself.

“J-just take her home later. I, uh, bought something for her.” You lied, knowing that you still have to go looking for something you can buy for your lovely child. You wanted to snatch her away from Satoru’s girlfriend, her other mom, but the giggle flowing out of her lips are too precious for you to ruin; the smile on her face as she tickled her tummy was too priceless. Look at them, you told yourself as you started to feel farther and farther away from their little world. They’re a picture of a happy family.

“I’ll see you later, honey…” You whispered, giving her head a pat as she looked up at you with her big, cerulean eyes. You didn’t wait for any of them to walk you out, you just let your feet take you out of their home, not daring to look back for the fear of breaking down. Your fingers tremble along with your lips and the tiny droplets of rain felt like acid on your skin. Maybe what they say was true. We experience people differently.

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

#angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader

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xi-chan · 26 days

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can you pretty please write ratio sunday and maybe gallagher with a reader who just brings animals home like one day they come home with just a dirty feral ass cat out of nowhere

of course I can love <33 I love this idea

White Jasmine

sypnosis: one day, you bring home a stray- much to his surprise you found it on the street pairings: Ratio, Sunday and Gallagher x reader (Separate) wordcount: 338 (Ratio), 364 (Sunday), 292 (Gallagher) A/N: fluff and crack? I have NOT grasped enough of Gallaghers personality to write enough for him im so sorryyy

RATIO

"No." he said, nonchalantly as you pout with the kitten in your arms. "Why not? Look how cute he looks!" you said and your boyfriend grimaced as he saw the feral look on the 'kitten' that you held. "It looks like it wants to rip my face off. And here I thought you could use your brain for once." he added and you dramatically gasped, holding the kitten close to you. "How could you say that?! He's not an 'it'! Besides, all he needs is a bath, some food and some grooming. Plus, if he were to rip your face off, then it's because you made him uncomfortable." Ratio groaned in annoyance before you walked right past him, getting ready to help your kitten.

He followed quickly behind in fear for his dozens of books and whatever he has for studies. "What do you even want to name him?

"Emperor Maximillian Pusspuss."

"You cannot be serious."

Nevertheless to say, the two of you agreed on the name Cosine- mostly because that when Ratio tried to explain The Pythagorean theorem to 'an idiot' student (he called him that), the cat responded every time he said 'Cosine'.

After one long day of shopping, you opened the door to your shared house and noticed the lack of sounds from inside. Also, normally, Cosine would wait before the door once you entered, but not today. As you walked through the entire house, you stopped when you entered the bedroom, bringing out your phone to snap some pictures of the sight before you. There, your smart boyfriend laid on your bed with Cosine sleeping on his chest as he read a book. He looked up as he heard the shutter from your phone, "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, putting the book away. You smiled to yourself before walking up to the bed and petting Cosine, causing him to wake up and meow softly at you. "Well?" you took a glance at Veritas before you showed him the picture.

"Preserving memories."

SUNDAY

"Angel, this is the seventh time." he sighed, too tired to argument with you actually as you brought in yet another bird you found in Penacony. "But this one is injured." you said, showing your boyfriend the injured wing of the bird. He got up from his seat and you place the bird carefully on his hands when he stood before you. "Seems like a small fracture," he gently held the injured wing and inspected it before letting it rest beside the bird. "poor little thing." he quietly added before looking up to you. "I don't think we can care for another one, Angel." he said, but you shook your head, practically begging him. "pleaseeeee, the room is big enough for another, it can stay." he chuckled before the two of you began to walk to a distant room at Dewlight Pavilion.

Over the past 2 months, you have brought in six birds before this one, almost begging Sunday every time to help you heal them- after the fifth time you realized he only made you beg because he liked it. Together, with Robin's help, you have taken care of all the birds you have found. Even after they were healed, they chose to stay at Dewlight Pavilion, much like the origami birds that hid everywhere. Every morning, they would greet every with a delighted chirp and sometimes land on your or Robin's shoulder, but never Sunday's for some reason.

"Let me get some bandages and a intramedullary pin." you said, rushing to one of the shelves with the medicinal items. After making sure the bird was asleep for the procedure, you carefully drilled the pin into its bone before bandaging it up. Sunday gave you a small kiss as you placed the still sleeping bird on one of the pillows. "What was that for?" you asked, smiling at him. "I am not allowed to kiss you?" he chuckled before looking at the bird again. "This won't be the last, right?" You nodded and turned to him again. "Does it bother you already?"

"It does not. As long as there aren't too many staying here and you still remember that I'm present, of course."

GALLAGHER

"Here you g- what do you have there?" Gallagher just finished giving you your drink before he saw the stray hound that sat beside you. "Oh- this is Pee-wee." Gallagher remained silent before Siobhan laughed at the name behind him. "Pee-wee? That's his name?" he asked before silently mourning over the given name of that dog. You chuckled to yourself as you sat on one of the bar stools with your drink in hand and the hound also jumped onto one of the stools. "I was kidding, handsome. His name is Dexter. Fits more, don't you think?" you took a sip as he exhaled in relieve. "Oh thank god." Dexter swagged his tail as Gallagher pet him before turning to you. "Where did you get him?" he took notice of the amount of dirt in his fur and some injuries on his ears. "Near Dream's Edge. He was starving when I found him. Can we pretty please keep him?" Dexter barked at your idea and Gallagher found himself agreeing.

However, to what he was not agreeing was to you bring even more stray dogs to the bar, to the point where even the local Penacony monsters were unable to enter and the bar quickly lost customers.

"Ahem, don't you think you kind of... overdid it?" Siobhan asked you and Gallagher nodded, "They need to leave. Especially those who aren't even injured." you shook your head as you sat on the ground with almost five dogs trying to lie on your lap. "I'm unable to do so." Gallagher groaned as he gave up, sitting beside you and letting some dogs also lie on his lap.

"At least get them out of the bar. Argue with the Hotel Staff to let them wander around."

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dreaming-medium · 5 months

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White Nail Polish

Pairing: I.N x reader

Genre: pure fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.1K

Summary: Every Sunday when Yang Jeongin comes home to your shared apartment, there you’ll be, in your corner seat on the couch, painting your nails the same white color. But today, when he steps inside, you’re not there.

——————————————————————-

You always painted your nails yourself.

“It’s easier!” You would tell Jeongin with a bubbly smile. “Plus, it’s so nice to take some time to pamper myself. And I get to save money.”

It was a simple tradition he’s come to look forward to.

Every Sunday, when Jeongin walked in the door to your shared apartment and the smell of acetone smacked him in the face, he would always smile.

There you would be, on your designated corner seat on the couch, in your coziest, oversized hoodie, a fresh clay face mask on your face with your hair held back by a fuzzy headband.

The same fuzzy headband he stuck in your Christmas stocking last year.

You’d only just be finishing taking the last coat off your nails by the time he got home.

Without fail, Jeongin would walk in and immediately open the window to air out the chemical smell. He would then lecture you about fumes and how dangerous it was to be inhaling them.

Then, you would giggle and ask him to sit with you. He would do so without any fuss and a happy tingle in his chest.

Both of you would talk and watch TV until it was time for bed.

Sundays were his new favorite days.

The roommate line of your relationship was quickly crossed with how you were as a person, your overly friendly nature couldn’t keep you apart for long. After living together for two years now, Jeongin would easily proclaim you as one of his best friends.

His life was always changing, nothing was ever the same; nothing except for you and your white nail polish.

So, when he opened the door and was met with only the smell of a burning candle, Jeongin frowned.

The living room was dark. The TV wasn’t on. The entire apartment was standing still.

Not even a fresh pot of coffee was sitting on the counter.

You were home, though. Your shoes were by the door and your keys were hanging on the hook.

Never once have you missed a ‘Self Care Sunday’ as you coined them.

Even when you had the flu, you made sure to paint your pretty nails.

The door shut behind him, the click of the lock was as hollow as the apartment felt.

Jeongin kicked his shoes off and made his way down the hall, tossing his bag in his room before walking across the hall to stand in front of your closed door. The soft glow of your fairy lights shined from the crack underneath the wood.

There’s soft sounds coming from inside, it sounds like you’re watching videos on your phone.

He knocks a few times, you hum for him to come in.

Jeongin pushes the door open gently, his head peeking in first before his body.

You’re a lump of blankets on top of the bed. If he looked quickly, he might not have realized that it was you underneath all the blankets and pillows.

“Y/N?” he asks quietly, stepping inside slowly.

Your eyes look at him, they seem… dull. When you see his face, you lock your phone and place it down on your bed.

Again, you only hum.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asks. Jeongin walks towards the bed and sits on the edge. “You’ve never missed a Sunday before.”

You shrug— or at least, he thinks it’s a shrug, all Jeongin’s able to see is the lump of blankets move around.

His eyebrows pull together and he purses his lip. “What’s going on?”

You look away from him. “Just… life weighing down extra today. Exams, job, finding an internship, life, everything.”

Every day you were bubbly. Not a moment went by where you didn’t have a varying degree of a smile on your face. Some people had a resting bitch face, you had a resting happy face.

The corners of your lips were perpetually upturned.

Seeing you now, like this, a sad lump of fleece, pulled at Jeongin’s heartstrings.

You reach one hand out from under the blankets and place it gently on top of his. “Sorry for being all meh,” you huff a humorless laugh through your nose. “I’ll be fine tomorrow. I think I need to be a bedbug today.”

Jeongin thinks for a moment, he looks around your room to your desk. Everything that you usually use on Sundays is there on top.

He flips his hand around and picks yours up, bringing it closer to his face. Cocking his head to the side, he peers down at your nails, making sure to exaggerate how much he’s judging the chipped polish.

“No, no,” he says, clicking his tongue. “This won’t do at all.”

“Jeongin—“

“Nope, look at this.” He holds your hand up for you to see. “How unprofessional. We have to take care of this.”

You roll your eyes. And it doesn’t slip past Jeongin’s watchful eye that your lips twitch in a smile.

“I just don’t feel like it right now,” you whine.

“That’s fine, I’ll do it.”

Jeongin pulls on your arm to yank you out of the blanket pile.

You blink a few times and allow him to sit you up on the bed. A large, stretched out t-shirt hung off your shoulder, your hair sticks up in different directions.

“What?” you ask with wide eyes.

“I’ll paint your nails, come on. Free of charge.”

Jeongin stands up from the bed and holds his hand out for you. You just blink at him over and over.

“You’re going to paint my nails?” The question ends with an incredulous laugh.

Rolling his eyes, Jeongin thrusts his hand out for you to take again. “Yes, I’m going to paint your nails, what’s so odd about that?”

“Have you ever painted your nails before?”

“No, but I watch you do it every week. How hard could it be?”

Your face scrunches up but a small twinkle returns to your eyes. It doesn’t slip past Jeongin.

Deciding that you’re taking too long, Jeongin leans down and picks you up over his shoulder.

A loud squeal comes from your throat that dissolves into giggles. His heart lights up at the sound— it always has.

Even on his worst days, hearing your laughter was like sitting in front of a fireplace during a snowstorm. When he’s sick, he swears he doesn’t need medicine, he just needs to sit near you.

He can still remember one night where he was at his wit’s end, everything that could go wrong, did. He was so overstimulated and angry at everything that he could scream and cry at the same time.

But then, your laughter pierced through the gray clouds of his mind. Your fit of giggles traveled through your door and into his room, they were so muffled but uncontrolled.

Slowly, they dissolved into cackles. Breathless wheezes and snorts that made him smile without knowing what you’re looking at.

You had one of those laughs that was so contagious, especially to him.

There was a bit of shuffling, a door opened, and then you came through his with one of the happiest smiles he’s ever seen. Tears coming down your red face from laughing so hard.

“You have to see this!” you wheezed out.

What was it? A video of a duck sitting on top of a water park geyser, when the water jet activated, the duck went flying.

It wasn’t even that funny. But hearing your angelic laughter made it hilarious.

Suddenly, his day wasn’t so bad anymore. He couldn’t even remember what he was mad about.

That’s the friendship you both have always carried on with.

A shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, an arm to grab when you’re laughing too hard, an extra coffee to bring home, a constant reminder to refill the Brita. It gets deeper and deeper every day.

Jeongin unceremoniously plops you into your corner seat and you let out an ‘ooof!’

He points down at your face. “Stay.”

“I’m not a dog!” You laugh nonetheless while Jeongin’s lithe form disappears down the hallway again.

You look down at your nails. They desperately needed to be done. After studying for hours on end while chewing on your nails, typing on your laptop, and picking nervously at them, there’s barely any polish left.

Truly, you were just going to wait until tomorrow— but if Jeongin was offering, who were you to turn it down?

He comes back out into the living room with everything you typically used. You honestly never noticed how much he paid attention to your pampering.

Setting everything down on the table, he sits cross legged on the seat next to yours and clicks the TV on. A random Christmas movie plays in the background.

He grabs the remover and a cotton pad and goes to work. All the motions look so natural after he grabs your first hand; like he’s the one that does this every Sunday, not you.

The two of you are facing one another, knees practically touching. He’s so gentle when he works.

The chemical burning smell of acetone makes him scrunch his nose up.

“Aren’t you going to open the windows?” you tease.

He grins. “In a minute. The smell has to permeate the house first.”

“And here I thought you hated the smell.”

“I do,” he wipes off polish and goes to the next finger. “But it’s just … something that’s grown on me.”

“Acetone?”

“Yeah,” he snorts. “Strangely enough. I hate it, but I love it.”

He switches to the next hand.

The Christmas movie continues to play, it’s a classic one with Korean translated subtitles at the bottom of the screen. It’s weird hearing English come out of the TV.

Jeongin’s been trying extra hard with English since you moved in. With you being from America, it was like having a live-in tutor.

“I … need remote, please.” He asked in a slow, calculated tone.

“You need the remote,” you corrected him, holding it out of his reach.

“I need the remote.”

“Why?”

“Change channel.”

“Change the channel.”

“Oh my god.”

Your attention goes back to Jeongin. He’s wiping the last of the nail polish off your fingers.

He’s been your rock these last two years. And you’ve been his.

Neither of you really enjoy having emotional conversations or talking about your feelings, you both prefer to stay quiet about it. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need some form of support.

That’s how you two work out so well. When one needs help, the other is there with jokes or food or a movie ready to watch.

Or in this case, nail polish ready to be applied.

With a huff, he stands up from the couch and pushes open one of the windows. He fans his hand in front of his face just to be extra dramatic.

Rolling your eyes, you poke him in the side when he sits back down on the couch.

You were expecting him to put the paint on right away afterwards, so imagine your surprise when he picks up the small pair of clippers.

With a raised eyebrow, you take your hand away a little. His grip tightens and his head snaps up to look at you with a mock-offended expression.

“Nuh-uh!” you tease. “You’re gunna give me man nails!”

“I will not!” he jests back. “I will clip your nails exactly how you usually do it!”

Your eyes narrow, he mirrors it.

You jut out your bottom lip, he mirrors it.

You slowly turn your head to the side to side-eye him, he mirrors it.

“I'm trusting you, Yang Jeongin. Christmas is next week. I don’t want man hands.”

He scoffs and looks back down at your hand. “I have rough news, Y/N.”

You balk and rip your hand away from him and then usher a swift smack to his bicep.

The two of you giggle the more you smack him around playfully.

“I do not have man hands!” you yell.

He laughs with you, holding his arms up to shield himself. “Okay, okay! Fine! You have beautiful womanly hands! Enough!”

You stop smacking him. “That’s more like it.”

With that adorable smile, Jeongin reaches forward and grabs your hand once again.

“One set of ridiculously short nails coming up.”

“I’ll poison your coffee tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, Yang.”

He snickers once more and then starts cutting your nails in small, little snips.

Jeongin just trims them a bit— he does a perfect job if you’re being completely honest. You preferred them a little longer anyway.

When he picks the nail file up, you’re less wary.

He files your nails down a little more, rounding off the edges just how you like.

“How was rehearsal?” you ask quietly.

“Are we gossiping now? Is this what it’s like getting your nails done at a salon?”

You chuckle. “Yes, now tell me all about it.”

“It was good, I had vocal training after, so it was a long day.”

“What does your day look like tomorrow?”

“Nothing tomorrow. But Tuesday we leave for Japan until Thursday.”

You hum, watching him file your nails. “Nervous?”

“Always. It’s never gone away.”

You giggle. “I think if you weren’t nervous, you would have too big of a head.”

“Or I would be Minho.”

Then, simultaneously, you both go: “Same thing.” And then break into a fit of laughter.

He files your one pinky finger and looks down at both of your hands at once.

“How’s that shape look?”

You bring them up closer for you to look at. They all look even and perfect.

How is he doing this?

“I think you should open a salon,” you tell him, still inspecting your nails.

“Ah, yes, let me abandon my idol lifestyle to be a nail tech.”

Jeongin grabs your one hand and files a little notch off that you didn’t see.

Again, you giggle.

He puts the nail file down and picks up the bottle of white polish you use every week. He shakes it around just like you do, hitting it against the heel of his palm.

Holding his hand out, you put yours in his.

“If you couldn’t be an idol, what would you do?” you ask suddenly.

Jeongin doesn’t even pause, but you can see he’s thinking about your question as he unscrews the bottle. The excess on the brush is swiped on the neck.

“Hmm,” he weighs your question. “I don’t know, really. I love singing so much.”

Jeongin grabs your one finger and swipes the polish over your nail.

“You could be a lounge singer,” you tease. “Singing in those fancy, swanky nightclubs at the piano.”

“Would I have a tip jar on top?”

“Oh, of course. It would be overflowing from all the women who fall in love with you every night.”

His cheeks heat up from the compliment, moving from nail to nail with the first coat.

“Don’t say things like that,” he mumbles.

You snicker. “Sorry, but all the old ladies would be head over heels for you. They’d empty their wallets into your tip jar and you would smile and wink at them with those dimples.”

With your free hand, you poke at his face. Jeongin swats at your hand with a whine.

“I’ll mess up your nails on purpose!” he threatens.

Still laughing, you take your hand away from his face. He switches to the second hand. You blow on the first one.

“Okay, your turn: why white?” He asks, paying attention to his careful brush strokes.

“The color?”

He hums an ‘mhmm’.

You smile down at the color on your first hand he did, admiring the way the white looks.

“I think it’s pretty,” you tell him.

“That’s all?”

You snort. “Does there need to be another reason?”

“No, I guess not.” He moves from finger to finger.

“It makes me feel a little extra beautiful. I can’t explain it, but having my nails painted white feels so pretty.”

His own smile is warm and happy. His cheeks scrunch up and the small blush of pink that sits on them make your stomach dance.

You’ve never really needed anything else like you’ve needed his presence— nor have you craved anything similar.

Jeongin is Jeongin. He’s simple and everything you could ever ask for.

“My turn again; if you could change one decision you’ve made in the last five years, what would it be?”

Jeongin whistles and finishes the first coat on your hands. “That’s a heavy question, Y/N.”

You continue to blow on your nails. “Well, I figured we were getting deeper and deeper.”

“I asked you why you liked white nail polish!”

“And I asked you to take a deep dive into your regrets, I think these are pretty similar.”

“Is it?”

“Hell yeah.”

Jeongin grabs the first hand he was working on and takes a look at the polish. “How long does it take to dry?”

“It’s a special gel polish, so ten minutes between coats.”

“How long do you think it’s been?”

“Maybe five?”

He nods and turns to look at the TV. His eyes scan over the subtitles at the bottom to understand what’s happening.

But you don’t look at the TV, you continue to stare at him.

Jeongin’s boyish charm never seems to go away no matter what. Even after all the soft lines of his face turned into hard ones, that teasing happiness is still there.

When you became roommates two years ago it was because you desperately needed a place to stay and he just as direly needed someone to pay the other half of the rent.

A match made in Heaven.

He continued to be an idol and you continued college.

When you first moved in, Jeongin told you that if you wanted more privacy, to let him know, that he was more than content to leave communal spaces to you.

You looked him in the eye and asked, “What if I wanted to hang out with you?”

Neither of you have looked back.

You needed a friend and he needed someone who wasn’t in his group. The boys can only do so much for his sanity.

Sometimes he just needs to come home to acetone and fresh coffee.

Scrunching your nose, you look down at your first hand and poke at the first coat. When your fingerprint doesn’t show up, you hold it out to Jeongin.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He looks back at you, then down at your hand and takes it. God, his hands are so soft.

“It’s too heavy of a question,” he whines.

“I wanna know the answer, though.”

He applies the second coat to a nail.

“I mean, I regret having to wear some of the outfits they had us in before and right after debuting.”

You laugh, it’s a cackle. Jeongin cracks a smile— it feels like a victory in his head.

“Okay, but I mean a real regret. Something you had control over.”

He stops painting your nails and thinks. His lip pulls between his teeth and his eyebrows pull together. Jeongin’s eyes flit around while his brain reels.

After a few seconds, he shakes his head and looks up at you. “I really can’t think of anything, Y/N.”

“Nothing?”

“Nope.”

“Not even me moving in?”

His eyes glisten and soften considerably when he hears you say that. The corners of his lips twitch and his heart stutters in his chest a bit.

It feels like cotton is shoved into his mouth while he looks at you. Your hair is still frizzy and everywhere, bare faced with sleepy bags under your eyes, pajamas from this morning still on.

If there was one decision that he was sure he made the best choice of in the past five years, it was you.

“No,” he says with a twinkly smile. “Not even that.”

His demeanor catches you off guard, but you don’t let it show too much.

Jeongin looks at you for a few more seconds before looking down to switch hands.

“My turn again. If you could do anything for a living, what would you do?” he questions while carefully painting.

“Oh, easy. Actress.”

Surprised, he looks back up at your face. “Really?”

“Yeah! I was doing a lot of acting back in America, just local stuff. But when it came time for college, I gave it up.” Your eyes shine sadly. “I was pretty good too, but it’s just one of those careers that have too much uncertainty.”

“Like being an idol.”

“Exactly.” You swallow thickly. “So I went for the secure route.”

Jeongin focuses down on your nails again.

You keep talking. “Besides, I get to live through you.”

His painting stutters, but he continues nonetheless. “What do you mean?”

“You come home with these fun stories of being famous, all the people you get to meet, the countries you get to see. You get to wear Alexander McQueen for God’s sake.”

He blushes, and paints the second coat on your pinky finger.

“Jeongin, your life is so cool. You get to fly to Japan on Tuesday, and you said it like it was just a regular commute. That’s … that’s amazing, you know?”

“It’s not all like that.” He inspects each nail, making sure nothing got messed up.

“I know. There’s crazy fans and all the blood, sweat, and tears.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes. “‘Crazy’ isn’t even a good enough word to describe some of them.”

You laugh.

The TV continues to play.

“But you get to do what you love,” you whisper to him through a thick voice.

Jeongin looks at you closely. There’s unshed tears welling up in your eyes. His heart sinks.

Swallowing, your eyes drop to the couch.

“I gave up on that dream a while ago.” You take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “So I decided to live vicariously through you and your fun stories.”

You shrug and roll your eyes to stare up at the ceiling. Your lip quivers.

With your hands still in his, Jeongin threads your fingers together and holds your hands up between you two.

He says nothing.

He doesn’t know what to say.

What can he say in this situation?

You don’t need him to say anything, though. You never have. The fact that he’s there is enough.

“Maybe that’s why we workout so well as roommates,” you say, “no one would suspect a normal girl, with a boring 9-5 would be living with idol superstar I.N from Stray Kids.” Humor was always your coping mechanism.

Letting out a deep breath towards the ceiling, you look back down at him, hands still intertwined.

“Thanks for letting me mooch off your life stories.”

Jeongin chuckles. “Anytime.” He pauses. “For the record, I don’t think your life is boring.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

He nods enthusiastically. “You did that research study about traffic safety last month, I thought it was really interesting.”

An unbelieving laugh leaves your chest. “You don’t need to lie.”

He squeezes your hands. “No, really! You’re studying so hard to be an analyst. You sat outside in the freezing cold for days and days and days watching the crosswalk of a busy road just to collect data.”

It’s true, you did do that. Jeongin also stopped by about once every other hour to give you a hot beverage or food.

If he noticed you were getting cold, the next trip consisted of extra jackets and blankets.

The things you do for research.

“After your findings were submitted, the city started the process to add more crosswalks to busy streets. You’re like a superhero.”

You stare at him for a second before bursting out in laughter. “What a lame superhero!”

Your cackles, like always, are contagious. He can’t fight his own giggles bubbling to the surface in his heart.

Before he knows it, Jeongin is laughing with you.

“I’m Captain Statistics! I beat the odds no matter what!”

He laughs even harder at your pun.

The two of you are giggling so much, your bodies falling forward on the couch, hunched over in a fit of laughter.

But, your hands stay intertwined.

Eventually, the laughter dies down.

Jeongin squeezes your hands once more and flips them around to look at your nails.

“I think it’s time for the top coat, Captain Statistics.”

You look at your hands and test the polish. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He switches the white bottle out for the clear coat. Repeating the shaking process and grabbing your hand.

The top coat goes on much quicker than the white polish does.

“Thank you for this, Jeongin,” you say quietly.

The smile that grows on his face reminds you of those timelapse videos of flowers growing in the Spring. It takes up the entirety of his face— and your heart.

“Of course, Y/N. Happy to do it.”

He moves to the other hand. You blow on the first one.

It’s the truth, he was happy to do it. He’d do it again if you asked him to. Jeongin would happily paint your nails every Sunday for the rest of your lives if you wanted.

Words sit in his mouth, words that he’s wanted to say for months now, words that would change the entirety of your relationship.

They’re so heavy on his tongue.

Jeongin can practically feel them tumbling out. He has to clench his jaw from keeping his confession to himself.

How much longer until he explodes? You can only shake a soda bottle too much before everything comes out the top.

God, he loves you so much.

You say it to him all the time, you say it to everyone so often.

“I love you” is said all the time by you. It’s as easy as breathing for you.

He asked you about it once, why do you say it so much? Your answer?

“People need to know when they’re loved. I will happily be that person that reminds them.”

As if he couldn’t love you more already. You’re just a light, a star, a sun.

Yes.

You’re his sun. The center of his galaxy. Everything revolves around you, he gravitates to you. He can’t help but bask in your warmth every single day.

The last of the top coat is painted delicately. They’re done.

“Finished,” he says quietly.

Your smile lights up the room.

“God, you’re the best, Jeongin,” you say, admiring his handiwork. “Thank you so much!”

He mirrors your smile and starts putting everything away. “Anytime, Y/N.”

Jeongin screws the lids tighter on the polish and acetone. A car honks outside. The TV plays on. The heat kicks on. You blow on your nails.

“I’ll miss you this week,” you tell him casually.

He looks over at you, folding his long legs up on the couch again.

“Really?”

“I always miss you, Jeongin. The apartment feels colder when you’re gone.”

He studies your face for a long stretch of time.

You’re too busy smiling at your nails to notice.

He can’t take it anymore.

“I lied to you,” he says suddenly. You look at him, slightly alarmed.

“What?” you ask.

“I lied— when I said I had no regrets, I lied.”

Your face scrunches up. “Why?”

He swallows nervously. “Close your eyes and I’ll tell you.”

You eye him curiously for a few more seconds before your eyes slide shut.

Jeongin’s heart rate picks up exponentially. It’s going to explode at this rate.

He leans forward towards your face, you’re so perfect. How are you so perfect?

He hesitates.

But, he swallows his nerves and swoops in the rest of the way, pressing his lips to yours delicately. Your body jolts, but you don’t move away from him.

It’s no more than a long peck. Electricity shoots through his body anyway.

A shock goes from his heart to his toes. He can barely feel his fingers.

You’re so magical. How do you do this?

Jeongin pulls away slowly, brushing your noses together and letting your shaky exhales mingle with one another.

He can’t open his eyes. He’s so worried that if he does, he’ll see rejection and disdain in your beautiful eyes.

You’re the first one to speak through the thick silence.

“I fail to see how that is a regret,” you whisper.

He laughs. Like always, you get him to laugh. He rests his forehead on yours.

“I regret not doing it sooner.” His long fingers come up to cup your one cheek.

You hum and lean into his touch.

Validation courses through his veins. It’s taking everything in his body not to jump for joy.

All he wants to do is stand up and scream, pump his fist in the air and claim victory.

Before he could do any of that, you lean forward and kiss him again.

Your top lip slots between his, his bottom in between both of yours.

A sigh of relief leaves his nose, his other arm wraps around your shoulders to bring you even closer. He can’t get you close enough to his body.

Closer, closer, closer.

Please, he needs you to be as close as possible.

He pulls back from the first kiss just to press another one to your lips.

Again, and again, and again— he pulls away just to swoop back in.

It’s never enough.

It’s like drinking water after you’ve been parched all day. He never knew he was crawling through a desert until now.

“Jeongin,” you giggle through his frantic kisses.

He grunts in response and continues to kiss you more. Why can’t he get enough?

He’s resigned himself to his fate. He’ll need to kiss you forever until the world ends.

“Jeongin,” you say again, still laughing.

How has he gone this long without your kisses? It’s madness.

Finally, you pull back. He dives in for another kiss, you turn your head with a brilliant smile, his lips meet your cheek.

Eh, that’ll do.

Over and over again he pecks your cheek. Laugh after laugh comes from you.

“My nails!” you finally call out. “You’re going to ruin them!”

His hand turns your face to look at him. “I’ll do them again. I’ll do them again and again, just please let me kiss you.”

Unable to take it any longer, you throw your arms around his neck and smash your lips together.

You pull him down onto the sofa with you, kiss after kiss being shared between the two of you.

How was he supposed to go to Japan now?

————————————————————————

(A/N: yes, the duck video exists. You can see it here. The first time I saw it I laughed so hard my housemate came in to check on me.)

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #yang jeongin x y/n #i.n x y/n #i.n skz #stray kids fanfic

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itaehynz · 10 months

Text

SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. — C.YJ

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: fluff, crack, suggestive.

breakdown/summary: yeonjun is sooo seven coded — based off the song ‘seven’ by jungkook, i can no longer contain these thoughts about yeonjun 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i just know he’d be so consistent when it comes to him being in love with someone, like a lovesick puppy!

warnings: profanity, suggestive words, yeonjun is kind of a himbo (?), reader is a bit mean at first but she warms up to him, yeonjun does not give up at all.

yeonjun who is confused at first, as to why you’re not giving him the attention everyone else does? is there something wrong with him, is he ugly? it can’t be that. or maybe you just don’t get the hype of being so obsessed with him? ding ding ding. he’s first thinking to himself, maybe i can attract them with flowers? and that’s when he starts his mission:

getting you and your attention.

yeonjun, who tries to get you within a week’s time, if he can’t get you by saturday, he’ll leave you be… well, he would but he’s way too prideful, he knows he can get you within a week.

—

SUNDAY.

he drops off a bouquet of flowers to your house, thank god you were home at the time. he feels as if he’s already had you wrapped around his finger before you text him.

tloml <3: don’t drop off shit at my house w/o letting me know first. i’m throwing them away + i still don’t want you.

ouch, that was harsh. he thinks to himself, typing a response for your “cruel” response to his offering.

you: y/nnn :( why do you hate me?

tloml <3: i don’t hate you, i just don’t like how you’re trying to throw yourself at me. can’t you take a hint?

you: well for one, i’m not throwing myself at you. it’s just when i want something, i don’t stop until i get it. and two, no, i cannot take a hint especially when it’s coming from you! 😋

tloml <3: yeonjun, please get the fuck off my phone. i gave you my number so you can ask me about the comic you purchased, not so you can send flowers to my home. next time you send something to my house, i’m going to find you and bash your smug face into cement.

you: oh my gosh you said my name 🤭 hearing you say that makes me so happy, you don’t even understand.

tloml <3: i’m not even really saying it…

you: so? i can hear it in my head.

tloml <3: you’re insane, don’t text me again.

he tries sending another message but it doesn’t go through, that’s when he finally realizes what you did. you BLOCKED him. he’s in utter shock. did he go too far? what if you hate him now? he shakes these thoughts away with a swipe of a hand through his hair. i guess i’ll just have to work harder for these next days.

—

MONDAY.

yeonjun decides to bring food and flowers (again) to your job! he sees you from the window of his car, working the front register. your hair is tied up into a ponytail, you’re wearing a beige crew neck with the words “new york” embroidered on it, loose gray sweatpants & old high top converse.

good thing you work in a comic book store.

yeonjun thinks you look absolutely stunning. he leaves his car to approach the store, walking in with his chin held high plus the food and flowers in hand. you hear the bell above the front door ring, looking up to greet the new customer.

“hello! welcome to the eternal comic store, how can i-” you sigh, “what do you want, yeonjun?” you say as he looks at you with a bright smile.

“ohhh you know nothing, just wanted to drop these off for you,” he places the food and flowers on the counter, hoping you’ll atleast take something. you look at him annoyed, not understanding what’s so special about you that he continues to keep trying with you… you’re starting to like it.

“thank you but, can i ask you a question?” he nods. “why do you keep trying to get at me? i already said i don’t like you, was that not enough? do i have to punch you in the face?” you ask, irritation slowly making its way into your tone.

yeonjun raises his eyebrows, not expecting that question but still knowing his answer. “y/n, the first minute i walked in this store i just felt myself gravitating towards you. you have this type of aura, i don’t know how to describe it,” he pauses, resting his head on his chin.

“it’s just like, you’re comforting? yeah that, even though you’ve been nothing but mean to me… i can tell that’s just you having your guard up to protect yourself and i get it. but besides you having a comforting aura, you’re just really pretty and i’d also like to get to know you because you seem cool! and, please do not punch me, i might cry.” he finishes, straightening his lips into a thin line.

you blink, trying to understand everything. you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out, so you just roll your eyes and nod. he watches your expression with the same smile on his face, admiring how nice your eyes are.

“thank you for the food and flowers yeonjun, but please get out of the store,” you finally say, rushing a hand through your hair. he catches the small smile you give him and nods before saying, “alsooo, do you mind unblocking my number? i won’t annoy you but can you please just do it?” he asks with a small pout.

you nod shooing him away and pulling out your phone to do so. he smiles widely, walking away with his hands in his pockets.

even though he annoys you to no end, he’s very consistent and it’s something you slightly admire. just slightly.

—

TUESDAY.

yeonjun comes back to your job with nothing to give except his conversation. he waves at you as he walks in, not caring how you stare at him blankly instead of waving back.

this time he came in with a friend, a friend named soobin apparently. yeonjun must be talking about you to soobin because he keeps glancing over at you behind the counter.

“see, she’s so pretty. doing her job and stuff, normal human things,” he sighs, “why doesn’t she want me?” he looks over at soobin.

soobin rolls his eyes, looking through the manga section. “probably because you’re a pain in the ass? i don’t know though, just a thought.” yeonjun smacks the back of his head, causing it to make a noise which has your head perking up from your phone.

he looks over at you, smiling and waving his hand trying to say it’s nothing, don’t worry which has you rolling your eyes and looking back down at your phone.

his smile fades away as he looks back at soobin, “don’t be a dumbass, i’m not even that annoying to her… yet,” he adds looking over at you once again. “yeah, yet.” soobin mumbles.

“i’m sorry, what was that?” yeonjun asks, which makes soobin shake his head. he nods, snapping his fingers as a way to tell soobin to hurry up.

soobin picks up a manga, walking over to the counter. yeonjun follows behind, smile adorning his face as he approaches you. seeing him from your peripheral, you choose to ignore him and focus on his friend.

“will that be all?” you ask as soobin nods, “okay, that will be 8.36. will you be paying with cash or card?” yeonjun notices how you haven’t said much of a word to him nor have you even gave him his daily dose of mean glares. “card is fine,” soobin says.

you accept his card, swiping it quickly before handing it back. “enjoy your read!” you chirp, giving him a small smile.

yeonjun tells him to go, watching as he walks out. looking back over at you, he pouts, “y/nnn, why haven’t you talked to me?” he quirks his head to the right.

“what is there to talk about? once again, i already said i don’t like you, yeonjun.” you walk out from behind the counter, going over to a bookshelf. he follows you like a lost puppy, pout stuck on his face.

“yes, i get that but you haven’t like me for a while and we still spoke a little. what’s so different now, do you not like me even more today?” he questions, coming closer to you.

you turn around to him and say, “yeah, pretty much.” he stands there, pout gone and jaw on the floor.

“WHAT DID I DO?” he yells, making the few customers turn around. your eyes widen, covering his mouth with your hand. you grab him by his hand, dragging him to the back room, “yeonjun, shut up! do not yell please, i was kidding.” you whisper yell.

“y/n, please let go of my hand before i kiss you,” he says with a blank look on his face.

you look down to see you are in fact, holding his hand. you snatch it away, confused on why you didn’t do so sooner. looking back up at him, you sigh telling him that it’s just best to not yell anymore or else he’ll be banned from the store.

“i thought you’d want me banned from the store?” he asks, genuinely confused. “as much as i’d love to, you and your friends are some of our best paying customers,” you tell him as you walk back to the front.

he follows behind you with a light smirk on his face, “can you please say you enjoy my company already, this fake rudeness is getting a bit old y/n,” he says yawning into his palm.

“get out the store.” you tell him exhausted, rubbing your nose bridge with two fingers. he raises his hands in defense before walking away while saying “byeee y/n, i’ll see you tomorrow,” blowing you a kiss.

“bye yeonjun,” resting your chin in your hand, thinking about the whole thing. is yeonjun starting to grow on you? it seems so.

let’s pray you don’t make it too obvious.

—

WEDNESDAY.

this time, yeonjun doesn’t even come in the store. he doesn’t even text you either, which is a shock to you.

hm, he must have not tried anything today, you sigh, finally some peace and quiet.

well, that’s what you thought. until yeonjun’s friend, soobin comes into the store.

“hi, are you y/n?” he asks carefully. you nod slowly, confused with what’s going on. “yeonjun wanted me to give you this, enjoy your day!” he adds, handing you a small box with an envelope attached to it.

“you too,” you say looking down at the box, confusion gracing your features. what the hell is this, you think to yourself.

you open the envelope first, seeing a letter.

“hi pretty, it’s yeonjun.

today is the worst day of my life, i came down with a fever :( i couldn’t drop you off anything because i didn’t have any energy to reach for my phone, hence why i’m writing a letter!! i hope i’m okay by tomorrow or if not, friday.

i’m really really sorry i couldn’t send you food with this, i’ll try tomorrow if i feel okay. for now, you can just have this. i’ve noticed you have an interest in lotus flowers so, i hope you like this.

love, yeonjun. :)”

you place the letter to the side, opening the small box.

a necklace.

he got you a fucking necklace.

a silver lotus flower necklace, it’s actually beautiful. you take it out, checking if it’s real just for… precautions. you once again don’t know what’s so special about you that yeonjun decided to give you necklace but you’re gonna wear it. you don’t know why but something just feels right about wearing it, is it possible that you may be falling for yeonjun? you’d like to say no but you’re not even sure of your own answer.

you spend the rest of the day at home contemplating on whether you should text yeonjun, just to check if he’s okay. not that you really care or anything (you do).

you: hi yeonjun, i got your gift and letter from soobin. thank you for the necklace :) i just wanted to check up on you, see if you’re okay. text me back when you can, love you.

you send the message without hesitation before reading over it but once you do, you regret ever sending it.

you told yeonjun you love him. are you fucking insane?

before you can even finish processing what you’ve done, your eyes are widening in shock. seeing three bubbles pop up meaning that yeonjun is texting back. fuck, what if he doesn’t say it back? no, what if he says it back and doesn’t mean it.

a few minutes pass as your phone pings in alert, a text from yeonjun gracing your notifications. you open it reading,

yeonjun: hi pretty <3 thank you for texting me, i was scared you hated me or something lol

yeonjun: but you’re welcome, it was nothing! you know i love giving you things ☺️ & thank you for checking in, i’m doing a bit better! i had some kimchi soup my friend taehyun made for me, it was really good, i hope you ate something >:(. but yes i’m feeling a bit better so thank you for that! and, i’ll always text back fast if it’s you!

yeonjun: but i’m gonna go back to sleep bcuz junie is sleepy… & i love you too pretty :)

for some reason, you can’t help but feel glad that he’s doing better but… you’re even happier that he said he loves you too.

your stomach is filled with butterflies as you reread the last message over and over again, stuck on the fact that he didn’t even question how early you said the L word.

this is a very unfamiliar feeling, you’re not very fond of it. but you’re going to stop yourself before it gets any worse.

—

THURSDAY.

once again, yeonjun doesn’t show up. but his friend does, it’s a different friend though.

jjun: hi pretty! i’m still a little sick so i’m having my friend drop off some food for you + something extra ;) i hope you enjoy, love you & enjoy your shift!

you: read at 10:07 am.

you feel bad for not responding back but once again, stopping yourself before it gets worse is the only the thing you know.

who you’re assuming is yeonjun’s friend comes in, he has long brown hair and doe eyes. he’s wearing a blue beanie & a plain white short sleeve with grey sweats. he gently smiles at you, waving hello before walking up to the counter.

“this is from yeonjun, which i’m pretty sure you knew already,” he pauses to look around, “oh, he also says that he loves you and he’ll see you tomorrow!” he nods with a smile still on his face. you say thank you before he begins walking out the store, looking down in the bag you notice another small box somewhat the same from yesterday and another envelope.

you open the envelope first once again, reading what yeonjun has written to you.

“helloooo again pretty! i know you’re probably already tired of these letters but it has become a form of communication between us and now i’ll never stop!

i noticed you didn’t respond to my message which made me a little sad but maybe you’re just having a bad day! which is totally okay, i just hope you enjoy this meal and have a good rest of your day at work!

love, yeonjun! :)”

you fold the letter back up, guilt coming back to you as the letter reminds you that you haven’t responded to him.

you know what, fuck this. you’re not responding. don’t let the guilt eat you alive and just carry on with your day, he’ll be fine.

you finish up your shift at 6pm. you walk to the back room, punching in your time sheet once again to clock out.

you have your airpods in, music playing before it pauses. siri reads, “incoming facetime call from yeonjun”.

why the hell is he calling you? he must have buttdialed you. you let it ring, waiting for it to hang up by itself but when it does, he calls you again.

growing agitated, you take your phone out of your pocket and decide to pick up.

“what do you want yeonjun? why are you calling me?” is the first thing you ask as his face pops up on the screen.

he has a pout on his face and his eyes are narrowed “why haven’t you texted me y/n,” he sniffles slightly. “do you fucking hate me?” he asks, you start growing regretful of the decision you made as you hear how upset he sounds.

“what?” is all you can seem to say right now, which leaves him baffled.

“that’s all you’re gonna say?” he asks, venom lacing his tone for the first time in a while.

“yes, goodbye yeonjun.” you say before hanging up abruptly, leaving yeonjun shocked on the other end.

tomorrow, yeonjun’s definitely going to give you an earful.

—

FRIDAY.

today, yeonjun finally comes in. you sigh heavily, already knowing what’s about to come. you’re ready for him to talk your ear off but you weren’t ready for what he came in wearing.

he’s wearing a black wifebeater with a gray hoodie over it, black sweatpants and black converse. his long black hair is slightly disheveled from all the times he’s ran his hands through it. his plump lips, covered in moisturizer as they shine from the store lighting. makes you wonder what his lips would look like covered in your slick after licking you up so softly, slim fingers pumping in and out of your rough walls, hitting that same spot over, and over again.

get your head out of your ass y/n.

you shake off these thoughts, watching yeonjun walk up to the counter.

“can i talk to you in the back,” he asks with a fake smile gracing his face. you nod as you get up, telling your coworker to handle the register for you.

you and yeonjun both go to the back before you speak first.

“what are we in here for?” you question already knowing the answer. he rolls his eyes in annoyance, clicking his tongue.

“ever since you said you loved me in messages, which i knew was a mistake, you’ve been ignoring me. why is that?” he says ticking his head to the side.

you look up trying to find a valid response, “i don’t know yeonjun, maybe i just didn’t feel like texting you anymore after that?” you say, fake irritation lacing your tone.

his eyes widen in shock, “really y/n? that’s your excuse? that’s the dumbest shit i’ve ever heard, please be honest with me. you know i won’t judge anything you tell me.” he says, genuine anger starting to cover up his gentle tone.

you sigh, “i don’t know why honestly. yeonjun, you’ve been doing nothing but bothering me ever since last friday so, i don’t even understand how i could feel this way.”

yeonjun’s eyebrow raises, “feel what way?” you blink in shock.

“i’m pretty sure i have feelings for you.” you say, looking down at your shoes.

now it’s yeonjun’s turn to blink in shock, “oh wow.” he says looking over to the side.

“and y/n, why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “because i wasn’t sure before and i tried to make myself lose feelings but, you kept doing all this sweet shit for me and i just couldn’t stop myself anymore. i really do like you, yeonjun.”

you both share a look before yeonjun glances down at your lips and you do the same to him.

his eyes dart back up to yours before he smiles gently.

“y/n, you know i like you back. i make it very clear but, i get why you were scared… i think. you were probably confused by the unfamiliar feeling, and i completely understand that.” he says, now speaking in his normal tone.

your face softens at the way he’s trying to understand where you’re coming from. you smile softly, making his eyes light up.

“that’s the first time i’ve ever seen you smile y/n,” he says with pure adoration glazing his naturally soft tone.

“yeah, i know,” you say with the smile still on your face.

“i’d like it if you smiled more around me, it’s really pretty,” he adds, watching you cover your face with your hands.

he brings his hand to your face, peeling your hands away. he licks his lips, implying that he obviously wants something.

“i already know what you want so just do it—” you say before he cuts you off, smashing his lips onto yours. even though you’re slightly caught off guard, you kiss back with just as much passion as him.

one of his hands are softly gripping onto your neck as the other is resting on your hip. both of your arms are slinging around his neck, moving into him deepening the kiss.

he moves the hand on your waist down to your thigh, tapping softly signaling you to jump up. doing so, he picks you up with ease resting you down on a small counter near the back room door. his left hand begins rubbing small circles into the flesh of your thigh, while his right hand is grabbing your chin to deepen the kiss even more with his tongue.

the slight intrusion of his tongue makes you softly moan into the kiss which has him lowering the kisses to your neck, he lightly sucks on your sweet spot drawing a delicious moan from you. he covers your mouth with his free hand, continuing to suck on that spot making you close your eyes in satisfaction.

he stops abruptly, a smug smile plastered on his face.

“i don’t think we should be doing this here, y/n,” he whispers with the same smile still on his face. you groan in annoyance, but think about how right he is.

“we can finish this back at my place, if you want?” he asks as he eyes you down with lust glazing over them. you nod bashfully, jumping off the counter gently patting down your clothing to try and make yourself look normal.

he does the same, fixing his hair and clothing. you both walk out before you ask your co-worker to clock you out when it’s time for your shift to end. they nod with a smile, already knowing what you’re about to be up to.

you smile back, walking out hand in hand with yeonjun, letting yeonjun take you to his place to have you however he would like to.

—

SATURDAY.

you wake up to find yourself in an unfamiliar space. you look over to find your clothes on the floor, along with someone else’s. they’re yeonjun’s. you finally realize what you’ve done, you slept with him.

you look down at your waist, seeing his arms wrapped around you. you try to get out of his grasp to go to the bathroom but he subconsciously tightens it, “y/nnn, where are you going?” he mumbles sleepily, pout resting on his face.

your face softens at the sound of his voice, “just to the bathroom jun, i’ll be back don’t worry,” you say. he hums in response, “my shirts are in the top left drawer and my boxers are right under that drawer.”

he releases his grasp on you and lets you get up to find clothing. you get up and walk to his drawer, picking the first pieces of clothing you see and putting them on. you walk over to his bathroom, taking a new toothbrush out of the pack.

you peek out the bathroom, seeing that yeonjun is still sleeping. you take a few minutes to brush your teeth and wash your face, coming up with the plan to make you and yeonjun breakfast.

you make your way to the kitchen, trying not to make any noise as you look for a frying pan. once you find one you turn on the stovetop, checking the fridge for any eggs. grabbing the carton, you crack a couple onto the already heated pan preparing an omelette.

you hear soft footsteps approaching you, feeling yeonjun’s arms wrap around you once again.

“good morning baby, what are you making?” he asks, looking over your shoulder to see what’s being made. he hums in delight, nuzzling his nose the crook of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses.

“jun stop, you’re distracting me,” he giggles, moving away from your neck to let you focus.

“how much longer is this gonna takeeee, i wanna cuddle with you,” yeonjun pleads, a small frown painting his features.

“i’m almost done, give me a sec,” you reply, plating both dishes & finally walking over to sit down next to yeonjun.

he smiles in glee, taking in the smell of the freshly-made breakfast. he pats the cushion next to him motioning for you to sit down as you hand him his plate.

“thank you pretty,” he says while cutting the omelette into a small enough bite for him to chew, humming in delight at the savory taste. you watch him with a mix of hopefulness & confusion swirling in your eyes, waiting for him to tell you he likes it.

he nods slowly, “i like it! it’s really good, your cooking is amazing y/n,” he smiles, taking another bite.

“thank you yeonjun,” you say as you begin to take small bites of your own food. you feel the male next to you wrapping his arm around your waist, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“i know this is sudden but, will you be my girlfriend? i really want you to be, it’d really mean the world to me… you can say no!” he mumbles at first, gradually increasing his volume. you stare at him dumbfounded, shocked he’d even think you’d want anything else more than that.

“it’s weird you’d think otherwise jun, i’d love to be your girlfriend.” you say, raising your hand to gently rub his cheek.

he melts into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm.

“i’m glad, i love you so so much.”

“i love you so so much more.” you say, before pressing a soft kiss onto yeonjun’s lips.

2023 TTYUNZ.

taglist: @k-labels @boba-beom @bucketofhiros @yeofy @n0-thisispatrick @hyukafied @hyunimylove @luvsoobs @choiwrld @majestyjun @tyunkus @belovedxiao @h00nerz !

author’s note: this was kinda rushed i’m so sorry guys, i hope you enjoy! 🥹🥹

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kerrslvr · 5 months

Text

london derby // sam kerr x beth england x reader

in which, after spurs vs chelsea ending in a draw, beth and sam end up winning your orgasms, which in that moment, is far better than a super league trophy.

warnings; 18+ strap ons, graphic smut, petnames, dom!sam, dom!beth, sub!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, face sitting, probably more but writing this one fried my brain 👍🏼

this is basically just pwp. and it’s filth. and i haven’t written smut in months so it’s all a bit all over the place. but i was so excited to burst back onto the writing scene. sorry. enjoy lesbians xx

"hello?"

your voice echoed through the hotel room when you picked up the phone. it was late enough so that the sun had started to set, although, on a drizzly sunday in london, there wasn't much of a sun to set anyway.

at first you wondered who was calling the hotel phoneline. nobody really knew where you were staying other than your manager, who'd set you up in the hotel for a few days for work, but of course, when the voice sounded on the other end of the line; you realised it couldn't be anybody else.

"hey, sweetheart," beth's sickly sweet voice oozed through the phone, "still in london then, i hear?"

the smirk that planted itself on your lips was one you weren't quite able to remove, and your insides jumped at the thought of beth sneaking into your hotel room.

"yeah," you breathed, "how'd you know i was staying in walthamstow?"

"not just a pretty face, darling," you could hear the smugness in her voice before she'd even spoken, "now listen, i just had a shit game and need to blow off some steam, you up for it?"

after a day of trying to get a headstart on work before a busy few days, you really were up for it.

"you know i'm always up for it, bethy."

"good girl, i'll be there soon."

beth was a semi-frequent hook up of yours, and you both liked the company the other person gave you in and outside of the bedroom, she was older and the power she held was something you both enjoyed, yet she was able to be somebody you saw as a friend.

neither of you were ready for anything serious when you first started hooking up, and so it meant you could both get away with sleeping with other girls while she was at different places in the country.

plus, it also meant you'd gained quite the phonebook of famous faces, and interchanging which of beth's friends you'd chose to sleep with whenever they were playing near you was almost as fun as sleeping with beth herself.

you tried your hardest to keep yourself entertained while you waited, unpacking the rest of your things so they didn't crease in your suitcase, opening a bottle of wine from the mini fridge, you even managed to have just enough time for a quick shower.

as you tightened the belt on the hotel robe, there was a knock at the door in three quick successions, and if you were any more eager to get to the door you would've tripped over your own feet.

from outside the door, beth could hear the pitter-patter of your eager feet, and she waited patiently for you to unhook the latch.

"took long enough." you swung open the door, only to be greeted by not one, but two faces standing at your hotel room door.

there, standing in their respective training gear, stood beth and sam, her opponent from todays match, and another semi-frequent hook up of yours. you were positive your face went redder than a tomato, but your insides juxtaposed the feeling of embarrassment by backflipping into oblivion at the thought of what the two of them could do to you. together.

"had to make a quick pitstop," beth didn't wait for you to step aside so she could enter, and neither did sam. "do you know who sam is, darling? or do i need to make some introductions?"

they both stared at you blankly as you stood at the door, dumbfounded. in all the months you'd been hooking up with beth and her friends, you never expected to be caught out.

"beth's asking you a question, y/n. i suggest you answer her, and i suggest you tell the truth or else it won't end up very well for you, will it, princess?"

"n-no."

"no it won't end well, or no you don't know sam?" beth raised an eyebrow and admired you, as you stood there, silent. "come on, darling, you're on a clock here."

"n-no, it won't end well, yes, i know sam."

sam walked towards you, hands brushing against your robe, and it brought you back to reality. "and, how do you know sam?"

her hands slipped underneath the robe, fingertips cold against the soft, partially damp skin of your shoulders. she knew what she was doing, working you up, teasing you so you'd slip up and beth would know all your secrets. still, she'd probably fucked just as many of your friends as you had hers, so you figured you should call it even.

you looked up at sam, her brown eyes tantalizingly soft, despite holding so much dominance, so much eagerness to fuck the living daylights out of you.

"i know sam because, i, because we..." you took a moment to compose yourself, but sam's hands were roaming across your body under your pointless waffle robe, and beth was standing just as close to you now. "because we fuck too."

sam pushed at the hem of the robe, and it fell to your elbows, announcing your bare chest to the room. beth's hands carressed one of your boobs, and your nipple pebbled in the process. she couldn't help but let out a domineering chuckle.

"thank you for being honest, darling."

your breath hitched when sam's lips echoed the skin of your shoulder, leaving ghost-like kisses to your hot flesh. "you should know, neither of us are very happy. how long have you been lying?"

"not long."

beth's fingers pinched your nipple and you winced, "don't fucking lie."

"only a couple of months," your mouth worked faster than your brain in that moment, "we'd already been hooking up for a while when i started sleeping with sam, bethy. i promise 'm not lying."

sam's lips became more apparent on your skin, and beth continued to play around with your nipples, switching between the both of them with her soft but cold fingertips.

"you were so eager for this to happen that you didn't even bother putting on underwear, did you?" sam cooed, "i could see your tits through the robe before you'd even opened the fucking door."

sam's lips worked back up your arm, kissing around the curve of your boob until she'd latched herself onto a nipple, eliciting a moan from your mouth, and now beth had a free hand she was able to pull the robe off of your body completely, and she watched as your body ignited in goosebumps.

"you wanted this to happen, didn't you, baby? hm?" beth's hand instinctively wrapped around your neck and your lips parted. sam's hands took place of her mouth, pinching, rubbing and nicking at your nipples until they became puffy, just like she wanted them.

"i didn't know you were both going to show up," you shifted on your feet, and despite trying to help it, a smirk brushed across your cheeks, "but it was a nice surprise."

"god, you're in one of those insufferable fucking moods again," sam grunted, pinching both of your nipples together between her thumb and forefinger so hard it sent sharp jolts of pain up through your chest and down to your fingers. she turned to beth, as you reacted with a wince of pain.

"can you fucking stand her when she's in one of these moods?"

"she always seems to do it when she knows i'm pissed off with her, don't you babygirl?"

"no."

beth sucked her teeth, as if proving her point, and sam pulled you closer to her body by your nipples, and once again, instinctually wrapped her hand around your throat. the pain through your chest was intense, and sam's hand stopped a release of noise to tumble from your mouth.

"don't fucking lie," she said through gritted teeth, "beth's told you once, and if we tell you again you'll be left high and dry. do i make myself clear?"

silence fell upon the room and beth rolled her eyes, her hand coming into sharp contact with your bum as punishment for your lack of answer, and sam's hand contracted around your throat, "i said, do i make myself fucking clear?"

"y-yes." you choked out as best you could given your circumstance, and after sam left a hot, searing kiss to your lips, she pulled away from your throat as if she was never gripping it, although the mark of her hand across your neck said otherwise.

"right, here's whats going to fucking happen," beth tilted your face towards her, and you winced at the strain in your neck, "we are going to use you how we want, take out our frustrations on you, and all you have to do is lay there and take it. do you understand?"

"mhm," you nodded, voice gravelly, "i understand."

"good girl," sam cooed, "do you remember your colour system?"

if you weren't so desperate to be fucked you'd have slapped sam round the face. you introduced her - and beth - to the traffic light system. it was as if they were mocking you.

"yes," you breathed, "green for good, orange is i'm okay but i'm almost at my limit and red for stop."

beth's hand came around your face and you flinched, thinking she could read your mind and that she would slap you, but instead she caressed it slowly. "are you scared, angel?"

"n-no," you shrugged, "thought you were going to slap me."

"that's never made you flinch before, though love, has it?" sam cooed, unzipping her jacket and throwing it on top of your robe, and for a minute her face was lost in the fabric of her t-shirt until that too, landed in the pile of clothes behind you. it was as she sunk to her knees that you noticed the captains armband on her bicep, and you gulped. "but then again, maybe beth's doing it wrong."

beth simply rolled her eyes. they were friends, but they were also rivals, on the pitch, and now off the pitch, as they fought to make you cum.

you opened your mouth to speak, but instead the words caught in the back of your throat. sam's tongue trailed your pussy, purposely avoiding the two places you needed her the most, but that still didn't stop the tingling sensation in your tummy from building.

your eyes trailed to beth, who was also pulling her clothes from her body, the muscles in her arms flexing as she pulled off her shirt, and she too, was wearing her captains armband on her bicep, something that let a soft growl leave your lips.

sam's tongue finally found its rightful place on your clit and one hand immediately flung to her hair, a moan tumbling from your mouth. once beth was stripped down to her sports bra and underwear, she came around the back of you and kept you upright so you didn't hurt yourself.

if there was one thing you loved the most about hooking up with sam - it was her pussy eating. you could stand here in this moment for days and never get bored of the feeling. she loved knowing how much you loved it and she was a woman of her craft that never left you unsatisfied.

she settled into a comfier position and allowed herself to go to town on you, making you moan and cry within seconds of taking full control.

"does that feel good, darling?" beth asked, her hands cupping your tits and stimulating your puffy nipples as her lips grazed along your neck and sucked at the spot under your ear, making some blooming red spots of her own on your skin. your other hand found her wrist as you nodded.

"need.. m-more," you breathed, pushing her hand up to your neck, and both her and sam let out chuckles.

"god, youre so fucking needy," sam cooed, the vibrations of her voice making your clit twitch, "does it not embarrass you how needy you actually are?"

you bucked your hips up into sam's face after she'd spoken and it proved her point without you even opening your mouth. beth's lips were rampant on your neck, sucking harsh marks that were almost definitely already turning blue, and you sucked on her finger sloppily.

sam's tongue traced circles on your clit and your legs threatened to buckle at the embarrassing sensitivity. the bubble inside your stomach was building at a rapid rate and sam was purposely using that to her advantage, pulling your clit between her teeth and sucking on it as if it were a sweet.

you reached around to beth, fumbling for the line of her underwear, and when you slipped your finger under the waistband she gasped softly, allowing you to feel her as best you could.

the cotton was damp and you smirked around her finger as your own guided themselves as best they could to her clit through the awkward angle, and when your fingertip met with the bud she pulled away from your neck and bit the lobe of your ear.

"trying to make me cum too, princess? hm?" you nodded as an answer, unable to speak with her finger sitting on your tongue, "shouldn't you at least cum for sam first, baby?"

"she's far too greedy for that." sam's words were muffled and you ground yourself down onto her tongue, which only spurred her on further.

your pussy began to twitch, your breathing started to get heavier, and sam knew you were close to cumming, but she still expected you to ask.

"sam.. 'm gonna.. please can i-"

your own orgasm cut you off, ripping through your muscles like a knife and you were unable to control it. the hand that was in beth's underwear stilled and she held you in place by your neck so you didn't topple over onto the floor, and sam's tongue lay flat against your pussy as you rode out your orgasm.

sam's face glistened as she stood, and you couldn't help the urge to pull her in so you could taste yourself on her lips. she smirked against your skin, "one nil to me i'd say," sam looked across at beth, "what d'you think?"

"i think y/n's got a lot more where that one came from," she teased, releasing you from her grasp and pulling you across to the bed, "so really, sam, i'm not losing just yet."

you landed on the mattress with a soft thud, allowing the girls to admire you for a moment in the darkening room. sam undressed herself fully and crawled up onto the bed first, swiftly followed by beth, and the pair of them hovered over your face. the next few minutes were a blur of lips, unsure of who was kissing who, but it was a sight to behold.

"are you gonna stay nice and still for me, darling?" beth cooed into your ear, sending goosebumps over your arms. all you could do was nod, "i would say you need to stay quiet too, but i can read sam's mind like a book."

the pair of them shared a growing smirk, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion until you watched sam hook her leg over your chest so she was straddling you, "i'll make sure she stays quiet and still, so don't worry too much about that."

beth's lips traced your hipbones, kissing along every inch of flesh until your leg flinched, while sam eased herself up and up until her pussy was inches from your face. your hands wrapped around her thighs to keep her in place - and to keep them from wandering down to usher beth to hurry up - and she teased you by using her strength to hover above you until beth was ready.

"what's your colour, sweetheart?"

"green, bethy."

one of sam's hands came down and brushed beth's bum as she moved further down your body, a gesture that sent your mind into a frenzy and you whimpered at the sight; although you knew better than to make too much of scene out of the ordeal.

your clit twitched at the sensation of spit trickling around it, and beth was doing her age-old spit trick to lube you up; not that you really needed it.

in the blink of an eye, sam had lowered herself right down onto your face until you had no choice but to use your tongue. you were nowhere near as good as sam or beth - they had a lot more years of experience than you did - but you were damn good.

as your tongue began to kitten lick sam's clit, beth's finger slid knuckle by knuckle deeper into your pussy, and you mewled at the sensation. sam's hands grabbed your boobs for balance, and she began to rock her hips in time with your tongue.

"fucking hell, i forgot how good this tongue really was," sam pulled up and let you regain some air, "hold it still for me then, angel. you know what i want to do."

you poked out your tongue, mouth slack and wide and you let sam sink back down onto it, riding it as if it were a dildo. she pinched a nipple in the process and a whimper tumbled from your mouth and vibrated around her right as beth added another finger, this time your pussy comfortable enough for her to push through further.

"should really have your pussy filled more often, shouldn't you, darling? it's so tight, like a little virgin. i bet you can't wait for one of us to fill it later."

"one of us?" sam questioned, sounding as cool as ever despite your tongue being an inch deep inside her, "i'm just as eager to fill it as you are."

the exchange of words was met with a garbled moan, and you pulled your tongue from sam's pussy so you could breathe momentarily, and you allowed yourself to moan at the movement of beth's fingers, silently praying for her to add another finger.

sam rocked back and forth on your tongue once more, and you licked around her swollen clit every time the tip of your tongue came into contact with it, while beth added another finger inside of you.

your palms started to sweat and you dug your fingers into the muscly flesh of sam's thigh so you were able to keep ahold of her while beth's tongue came into contact with your clit. you took a leaf out of her book and began to mimic the movements of her tongue on sam, to which she let out a loud moan of appreciation.

"god, you've got such a pretty pussy." beth cooed as she pulled away, and when sam leaned down to rub the tip of her nose around your clit and trickle a line of spit down the valley of your walls to meet beth's fingers, you struggled to keep your rhythm.

beth teased you by dragging another finger around your entrance and eagerly licked your sensitive clit in quick motions so you were left a wriggling, moaning mess. your moans vibrated along sam's pussy and she too, was a wriggling, moaning mess on top of you.

your grip released from sam's thigh and you tapped beth's leg, motioning for her to swing her hips round to your hands, which she did, and once again, your fingers found her pussy. beth took a sharp intake of breath and a moan tumbled from her lips when your middle finger began to circle her clit, and now the room was a cacophony of moans that warranted a neighbors complaint.

sam's hips began to rock over your face quicker now that she was starting to feel her orgasm approach, expletives consistently leaving her mouth as one of her hands moved up to her nipple and she played with it in time with yours.

you pushed beth's underwear down her legs as best you could with one hand, and you now had the perfect angle to slide a finger inside of her, and as you slid one into her, she slowly added the third, teasing finger inside you and she was able to let her moans reverberate across your sensitive pussy.

"oh, fucking hell, 'm gonna cum if you keep eating my pussy like that, baby," sam pulled away from your tongue for a second, and you were able to get a small glimpse of beth eating your pussy and moaned, "oh, you like that, do you?"

in response to sam's question, your pussy clenched and despite her not being able to feel it, she sensed the answer was yes.

"clenching all over my fingers, babygirl? god, you're so desperate to cum, aren't you?" beth asked, resting her head on your thigh as she watched her wet fingers slip in and out of you, "if you're that fucking desperate with just my fingers inside of you, i dread to think how desperate you'll be when i resort to other measures."

"get in fuckin' line, beth," sam groaned, slotting herself back over your face, "i'm still the only one out of the two of us thats made her cum so far."

you knew your orgasm wouldn't be much longer, and so you sped up the movement of your finger inside beth, adding a second and a third in quick motions. your jaw started to ache, and sam's hips started to rock back and forth much faster than they were before; she too, wanted to cum just as much as you did.

you continued to clench around beth's fingers and when she curled them up to your g-spot repeatedly, you were unable to control your body's reflexes. beth smirked and her mouth latched to your clit again, wanting desperately to taste you as you came.

"she's gonna cum, look at her poor little legs thrashing around," sam noted, leaning forward to grip at your thighs so they didn't thrash as much as they originally were. your fingers dug into sam's thigh as harsh as they could to let her know she was correct, but she leaned down so her hand brushed your throat, "you'll wait for me and beth to cum first before you do, do you understand?"

you mewled against sam's pussy and as a response, beth slapped your swollen clit, "do not make me ask again," sam spoke harshly. as a response, you just nodded. "good girl, now get on with it."

your tongue had never moved as fast as it did in that moment, and you curled your fingers inside beth just as she had done inside you, and both of them were left moaning, wriggling messes. it was quite fun to be on this side of the window, but you'd much rather be the one receiving than the one giving. especially when their head was as good as it was.

sam came first, her entire body shaking and her clit twitching as your name left her mouth repeatedly, and beth came not too much longer after, rocking back on your fingers and leaving you desperate for a release. your pussy ached, and your throat was dry, and now, you really were embarrassed about how desperate you were.

"p-please. c-can i cum now?"

sam moved so she was facing you, and she admired your face that was glistening with her wetness, while beth's lips dragged soft kisses across your pubic bone.

"i dunno," sam answered, turning to look at beth, "what do you think?"

beth's fingers curled inside of you once more and your body rippled at the sensation, "i think she's been good enough, if a little greedy."

and that was all the answer you needed. sam's mouth found one of your nipples and her hand focused on the other, while beth's focus was solely on your pussy. she loved watching it clench and drip as she fingered it and licked it. your legs began to tremble uncontrollably, and nobody was going to stop the earthquake of an orgasm that shattered through your body.

you moaned louder than you expected at the stimulation you were getting from all over, and your body couldn't hold back the aftershocks that rippled through it. the loud, wet noises of beth slurping up all your wetness left your mind reeling, and it was even worse when she began to exchange the liquid between the three of you, as if she was a mother bird feeding her children.

"jesus, you taste so fucking sweet," sam noted, wiping the trail of spit that fell from your lip and sucking it into her own mouth, "i could taste you every single day."

"join the club," beth replied, admiring her work of your limp body. she stuck a finger in your mouth and let you suck off the remaining juices to keep you occupied while she spoke to sam, "you or me first?"

"oh well, i think it's only fair y/n shows you how incredible her tongue really is," sam's cocky smirk came back, "unless you'd rather let me have a second ride."

beth rolled her eyes and you couldn't help but flicker your gaze between the two of them. "i don't mind going second, means shes going to be uncontrollable," she looked down at you and stroked your face with the hand that was just in your mouth, and a damp trail of her spit covered finger was left across your cheek, "colour, darling?"

"i'm. uh, green. i think."

"you think?" sam asked, genuinely a bit concerned. "if you want to stop, darling all you have to do is say."

"n-no, i don't, not yet," your hand found hers in a sweet gesture, "i'm just getting a little tired, but im green."

sam placed a kiss to your hand and beth stroked your cheek, "you know we'll take excellent care of you, don't you, princess?"

you nodded in response, and sam released your hand so she could walk to her overnight bag, fumbling for whatever it was she was looking for. while she did that, beth caught you in a steamy make out and was able to shift you around, so she was now laying back on the pillows and you were hovering over her, your ass already perked up and waiting eagerly for sam's return.

you were so eager to finally taste beth that you didn't even hear the shuffling of sam's feet on the floor. you didn't notice her presence behind you until you felt the cold sensation of lube trickling down your thighs.

your fingers massaged the skin around beth's pussy and you turned round to face sam, standing behind you adorning your favourite strap of hers. it made you feel all warm and mushy inside knowing that her and beth brought your favourite toys with them so they could watch you crumble.

"why've you turned round, darling?" sam asked, her hand working up and down the shaft of the penis harnessed around her waist, "shouldn't you be making beth cum?"

you mewled at the mixture of the sight before you and the words leaving her lips, and then you felt beth's hand on your chin, yanking you back around to face her. "don't focus on sam, y/n. focus on me. understand?"

her voice was stern, but she had a soft look in her eyes.

"yes, beth, i understand."

she kissed you softly and then her hands juxtaposed her actions when she forced your head down to her crotch. as soon as your tongue came into contact with beth's clit, her head landed on the headboard and her eyes rolled back into her head, she was already sensitive and the sight of you about to be fucked by one of her friends was already sending her into overdrive.

as you got into a slow, soft rhythm, sam slid herself inside you and the stretch made you cry. sam's hips forced closer and closer to your bum until the strap was all the way inside of your pussy and it left you reeling.

you waved your hand across your back and sam grabbed ahold of your fingers, looping them together with hers. "everything okay?"

"mhm," you nodded, lifting your head up from beth's crotch, "jus' need you to stay there for a minute."

beth smirked up at sam, "bless her, she's really not been fucked in a long time, has she?"

"clearly not," sam pulled out and repeated the action, her hips drawing closer and closer to your skin, "do all the other girls not fuck you as good as us, baby? hm?"

"n-no," you choked out, "you two are the b-best."

your mind reeled as you slipped your tongue between beth's folds, and you soon realised that you would end up doing anything they wanted you to in that moment, and you knew they knew that too.

your body reacted quicker than you did as sam's hips began to thrust in an even rhythm, allowing you to adjust and wriggle accordingly. beth's moans were like sweet music to your ears as you continued to eat her out. her sweaty body was shaking with adrenaline, and the need to cum by your mouth, and you wished you could stay in the moment forever.

"less admiring, more eating," beth stated, punctuating herself with a slap to your cheek that was light enough to not hurt but daring enough to leave you reeling, "or else we'll tie you up in the corner and watch us do it to each other while you sit there crying."

"she'd probably fucking enjoy that," sam muttered, every word formed with a thrust, "but then again i couldn't stand to listen to her incessant whining."

"your choice, sweetheart."

your body was reeling now, and you knew it wouldn't be long before your third orgasm of the night washed over you, but you wanted to put all of your remaining effort into beth. you struggled to find a rhythm that your exhausted tongue could keep up with, and then beth started to grind her hips and it felt much easier for you to keep up with getting her to cum.

"starting to wear out, darling?" beth asked, a question that wasn't patronizing on paper, but in execution.

"mhm," you mumbled as you continued your plight, "but i wanna k-keep going."

"christ, you're like a bitch in heat," sam said, her own hips struggling to find rhythm at the nearing of her release, "can't seem to throw in the towel, can you baby?"

you shook your head and the feeling of your tongue sliding along beth's pussy made her jolt, and you completed the action until her mouth went slack. her hands grabbed bunches of your hair and held you in place as her second orgasm washed through her, your name tumbling out of her mouth like a mantra.

"sam... i... i don't know how much longer i can hold it," you croaked once beth had released your head. "p-please."

you reached around and grabbed sam's hand, and she held it at your lower back as she regained a newfound force to fuck you with, shoving you forward until your face landed in the space of duvet between where beth's legs were previously placed.

you didn't even realise beth had moved away from her spot in front of you until you felt her fingers circling your clit. your mind went numb in that moment as you struggled to find the words to announce that you were cumming, instead just a slur of screams and swears all rolled into one.

beth's hand came into contact with the skin of your cheeks and you hummed as you came to, "still feeling up for one more round?" she asked, "it'll be over so quickly, darling. you'll barely even feel it."

"o-okay," you nodded, and leaned in for a kiss which beth obliged, "but only if i get to sit between sam's legs so i can rest."

your eyes fell on sam as she slipped her legs out of the strap harness, and she'd never looked at you with so much care in her eyes before. "of course you can," she kissed your head, "our sleepy little girl."

your pussy was aching so much by this point, but you absolutely loved the way beth fucked you, and you weren't letting the evening end without feeling her for at least a few minutes. sam got comfy, her legs spreading out wide that her ankles hung over the edges of the bed, leaving you plenty of room to get comfy between them.

your head fell to the crook of her neck and she hooked her arms underneath yours so she was able to play with your nipples, and coax along your orgasm by flicking your clit if it was needed.

you watched beth with hooded eyes as she put on her strap harness, adorning your favourite strap of hers much like sam had done, and if you weren't so exhausted it would've amused you that they probably planned this prior to today's game.

it worked in beth's favour that you were clinging onto the edge of consciousness. she knew she'd end up getting waterworks and this was her favourite part of having sex with you - you didn't give up until you had nothing left to give.

"remember, darling, if you want to stop at anytime, all -"

"- i have to do is say red, i know," you nodded, your hair tickling sam's chin as beth lined up in front of you, "i remember."

"of course you do," she smirked, and punctuated her next sentence by gently easing her dick inside of you, "our clever little girl."

you gasped at the feeling of another dick sliding easily inside of you. this one was slightly curved, meaning it hit your g-spot almost instantly when beth hit the right angle.

sam’s hands wandered around your sweaty body, her damp finger pads drawing soft, gentle circles over your nipples that made them feel as if they were on fire.

beth knew she didn’t have time to waste, and so she flung one of your legs over her shoulder, and it earned her a rather excitable moan from you. the angle felt much better now, and her dick hit your g-spot with such ease that it left you feeling dizzy.

“f-fuck, beth, c-can you feel it?”

“i can feel it all, princess,” she oozed confidence and it sent a swarm of butterflies into your lower stomach, “i love it when your body’s got a mind of it’s own, can’t you feel yourself dripping down your legs?”

you shook your head at her question, and while one of sam’s hands stayed firmly planted on your nipple, one travelled down south to your clit, which throbbed as she touched it.

“y/n,” sam’s breath was hot on your neck as her lips travelled across the red skin, “you’re so fucking wet it’s unbelievable.”

“i-i can’t feel it,” your eyebrows furrowed, “w-why can’t i feel it?”

“because you’re being fucked so good, babe,” beth changed her angle again, this time bringing herself lower so she was closer to your face, and the hit of the g-spot felt exceptionally good now, and she smirked when you moaned again, “see?”

sam rolled her eyes but you chose to ignore their playful banter and focus on your imminent orgasm. beth’s thrusts were strong, and you watched as her dick slipped in and out of your pussy, each time trickles of wetness fell onto the duvet and made the bed wetter and wetter.

“do you trust me?” she asked.

“always,” you replied, “i’ll always trust you. both of you.”

“good, cause once i do this we all know what’s going to happen, and it’s going to be messy.”

beth hooked your other leg over her shoulder, and you screamed out at the pleasure coursing through your body. her dick was relentlessly hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and your body began to thrash at the sheer pleasure it was feeling.

sam tried her best to hold you down while flicking your clit, her lips nibbling your ear as she watched with eager eyes and anticipation.

“b-beth…. ‘m gonna…. can’t hold it any longer.”

within seconds of the broken sentence leaving your lips, your body went limp. you’d well and truly lost control of your clenching muscles and couldn’t stop the release from happening even if you wanted to.

the bedsheets underneath you grew in wetness, and felt as if they’d been soaked in a bathtub. sam’s fingers continued to toy with your clit as your muscles continued to contract and release bodily fluids all over the three of you, particularly yours and sam’s legs and beth’s face, but none of you minded.

you managed to conjure up enough strength in your weak arms to push sam’s hand away from your pussy when you’d eventually stopped cumming, and beth slid off the strap and came to your aid almost immediately after that.

the two of them shifted you so you were sat in the middle of them, your dead weight, exhausted body split between the two of them. sam wiped the dampness from your cheek while beth kissed your temple, both of them consistently praising how well you did, how proud they were.

“you did such a good job tonight, babe,” sam noted, shifting her weight slightly so she could reach across to the table at the side of the bed and grab your bottle of water, “what do you need now? here, drink.”

sam held the bottle to your lips and you glugged the liquid eagerly, and as the water brought you back to a sense of life, you felt embarrassed about your appearance.

“i, uh, i’d quite like a bath.”

“we can run you a bath,” beth kissed your temple again, and soon her fingers entwined with yours, “want us to stay? or go?”

“i want you to stay,” you mumbled, your mouth working faster than your brain, “both of you, just for a bit.”

sam rolled off the bed and scooped you up between her arms, carrying you slowly towards the bathroom as beth darted in to run your bath.

“okay,” sam looked down at your exhausted figure, “we’ll stay. for a while.”

#sam kerr #beth england #woso #woso smut #woso community #woso imagine #woso couples #woso blurbs #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso one shot #women’s football

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lady-djarin · 10 months

Text

apple pie

bucky barnes x f!reader (one shot)

warnings: soft!bucky, longing, flirting, oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, doll), p in v sex (unprotected- wrap it up y’all), fingering, praise, choking, 18+ minors dni GO AWAY YOUNGLINGS

word count: 4.7K

a/n: heyyy so i finally did it! after way to long here she is. this is not edited very much at all so i apologize but i don’t completely hate it and it fills the hole in my heart that is reserved for bucky <3 enjoy!

Growing up in your small town of Delacroix, Louisiana, everybody knew everybody. One of your good friends growing up was Sarah Wilson. Everyone knew the Wilson’s. especially when Sam became an Avenger. You were born in the city and loved it; the small fishing port, friendly people and small town America feel it had. You worked at one of the oldest diners in town that almost everyone was a regular at. Your uncle owned the place so you helped out when you had the free time. Nothing too exciting ever happened in your sleepy little corner of the south, not until Sam came back to town that is.

The whole town had been buzzing about Sam's return home and all the good work he had done as an Avenger. Sarah had also told you about the “broodingly handsome” friend he had brought home with him. She said that Sam and his friend ‘Bucky’ had been working on the boat constantly, trying to get it up and running. They had stopped in a few times here and there to get lunch or pick up dinner for the whole family but never stayed long enough to talk. There were some moments where you caught the mysterious man looking your way but brushed it off as nothing important. You did agree with Sarah, Bucky was handsome but you figured he’d probably be leaving sometime soon to go save the world or whatever it is that Avengers do.

On Sunday nights you always stayed late to make your signature apple pie for the week to sell at the diner. Everyone had gone home for the night and you were left to finish baking the last pie. You were sitting behind the diner counter, mindlessly scrolling on your phone when the soft jingle of the front door broke you out of your haze.

“Miss apple pie!” Sam's voice was always a cause to make you smile. You were like brother and sister and you had endless good memories growing up with him.

You looked up and your heart skipped a beat when your gaze met that of the dark haired man beside Sam. You hadn’t thought much of him before, he was attractive, sure but not until now did you really feel anything for the man. His hair was messy, just slightly from working on the boat all day and his white shirt was now covered in grease. He looked rugged and tough in an almost perfect way. His blue eyes stood out under his dark eyebrows, they almost glowed in the soft light of the diner.

“Hey you two, come sit down, I just finished making some.” The two tall men sat in front of you, plopping down with a sigh. Bucky rubbed his right shoulder with his left arm and a glint of metal caught your attention, peeking through the end of his sleeve under his glove. You wondered why he wore the glove but never asked, in fear of offending him. You served the boys their slices of pie and watched as they dug in. You loved making food for people, especially baked goods. Watching people enjoy your hard work filled your chest with pride. The three of you ate and talked for a while until your last pie was done in the oven.

“So, what are you still doing in this small town? I always thought you would get out of here and write a book, or do something amazing,” Sam asked as he wiped his mouth where crumbs of pie crust had fallen.

“Well, you know how it is, my family needed me. Plus where would I go? I don't really have anywhere else to go,” you sighed, placing the now done pies in the fridge, ready for the week.

“You could go anywhere, the world is a large place,” Bucky finally spoke up, otherwise quiet until now. You stared at him, kind of in shock, hearing something coming from his lips.

“I guess that's true...” his icy gaze captured yours, making you unable to look away. A sharp ringtone broke through the silence, causing you to lose your focus on the man in front of you.

“Hi Sarah, I-- yes, I’m on my--- Ok! Ok! I'll be right there, bye,” Sam hung up the phone as he rubbed his forehead. “Sorry guys, I promised Sarah I’d help the boys with their homework,” he shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed his plate to help clean.

“No no, don’t worry about it. You guys go, I'll clean,” you took the plates from both men and turned to put them in the sink.

Bucky finally spoke up again. “I’ll stay and help you clean, I'll meet you at home later Sam,” he grabbed the rest of the dirty dishes and pie tins before rounding the counter. Sam said his goodbyes before rushing out the door, mumbling about being late. The two of you spent some time cleaning and making small talk, he told you about how he met Sam through a mutual friend, who just so happened to be Captain America. So naturally you questioned him about that as much as he would allow, until the entire diner was clean. Soon you both realized how late it was and started to head out.

“Thank you for helping, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, considering Sam dined and dashed,” you laughed at the thought of him being yelled at by Sarah over the phone. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Oh I didn't drive, I only live a few blocks away so I walk,” you motioned down the street, intending to walk alone.

“Well I'm not going to let a pretty lady like you walk home alone,” he stepped closer, eyes lidded and glued to your lips. “Especially looking as sweet as you do,” his hand snaked its way up to your face and he swiped his thumb across your lower lip. He held it up to the light to see a spot of powdered sugar on his thumb.

You were about to say how embarrassing it was that you had it on your face all evening but you had a feeling he did that on purpose when he stuck his thumb into his mouth. He relished the taste on his tongue and the almost imperceivable sound that came from his throat made your chest tighten. He smiled that sweet smile like he didn't just do… that, and he stuck his elbow out to escort you down the sidewalk.

The tone of your conversation had definitely shifted towards flirty while walking back to your apartment. He rested his gloved hand on top of yours, a soft yet strong gesture, telling you he would protect you if need be. The two of you walked side by side, getting to know each other with mindless small talk. He didn't talk much, mostly asking about you but he always looked like you were telling him the most interesting thing in the world. Finally you reached your apartment building, though you tried to walk slowly, because of how much you enjoyed his company.

“Well, this is me. Thank you for walking me home, James,” he told you his full name, although now he regrets it.

“Please, my friends call me Bucky.”

“Oh are we friends... Bucky?” You took a chance and stepped closer, closing the small distance between you two. Testing the waters, you put your hand on his chest, right next to his shoulder. Under his shirt you could feel something hard right near the top of his peck. You kind of toyed with the seam of it under your fingers without trying to draw your eyes to the area.

“It's metal,” he had kind of a lost, sad look in his eye.

“I’m sorry I didn't mean to–” you withdrew from him now, feeling awkward at the confession. You could see the hurt in his eyes from the memories that must be playing in his mind. Sam had told you some of the awful things he went through in the service so you can't imagine what Bucky had gone through.

“It's alright, have a good night, doll,” his soft lips gently kissed the apple of your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

Doll. Doll?

Usually you hated cheesy nicknames that men used to make women feel smaller, but coming from his lips, oh lord did it sound nice. The tall man stood watch as you made your way into your apartment building, one last wave before seeing you disappear into the elevator. He would never admit it, but his heart was in his throat the entire time he was with you.

------

“Nothing happened Sam. I walked her home, that's all,” Bucky threw his hands up in defense, neglecting to tell Sam about the kiss on the cheek.

“That's all that better have happened. She's like a sister to me,” Sam was always protective of you, even against his best friend.

“Don't worry Sammy, nothing happened… yet,” he mumbled the last word as he turned away, not letting his friend hear his true intentions.

He would never tell Sam, but he was already over the moon for you, even after only a few interactions. The small smile on your face whenever he spoke, the adorable way you froze when he wiped the sugar off your lip. He had been wanting to do that all night and he was so glad he finally got the courage.

“Buck, I swear, if you so much as think about it–”

“Oh come on, relax! I won’t!”

The two men were standing in the kitchen after the rest of the family had gone to bed. As Sam walked past his friend to go to bed, he whispered to his friend, “Be nice to her, ok? She's like a sister.”

“Will do, Wilson.”

—--

You were cleaning up the diner after closing, tired and sticky from a long day, ready to go home. You had the radio on louder than usual to motivate the cleaning process, unaware of the door jingle you danced your way around the floor, broom in hand. You spun around a corner to head towards the front and finish sweeping when you collided with a solid chest. A small scream lept from your throat when large hands turned you around to face the most beautiful blue eyes.

“Oh Bucky! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry doll, just wanted to see if you need a walk home?” His eyes sparkled when he saw your face, a wide smile to go with them.

“I would love that! Let me put this stuff away, give me a minute.”

You put the cleaning supplies away and turned off the lights and radio while Bucky sat at the same barstool the night you met him. When you were done you gathered up your belongings and Bucky walked you out as you locked the door. He offered his elbow just like the last time.

Such a gentleman.

“So, how was your day?” His voice was deeper than usual.

“Oh you know, the usual. Busy.”

You made small talk the whole way home, like you had known each other forever. By the time you got to your building neither of you wanted it to end.

“Hey… do you want to come in for a beer?” You weren't sure how he would perceive it but with how comfortable he seemed with you, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

“I’d love to.”

The two of you walked up to your apartment and settled into your place like you had done it a dozen times. You opened a beer for the both of you and sat on the couch, close enough to make you want to reach out and touch him. Of course Bucky was an attractive guy and the chemistry was electric, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions.

After the conversation became comfortable and more than a few beers were empty, you felt bold.

“So…Bucky…” You were still nervous to ask.

“Yes, doll?”

“Can I ask you something…personal?”

You could see the slight change in his demeanor, the anxiety in his face.

“Anything.”

“What happened to your arm?” You could feel your heartbeat out of your chest as your voice shook.

There was a static silence, something shifted in him and you could see it.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It-it’s none of my business… I’m sorry.” you got up and collected the empty bottles, heading to the kitchen when his voice froze you.

“It was the war…” he sounded distant. Like he was in that memory again.

“Bucky, please its ok, I'm sorry i ask–”

“No I… I want to tell you. It was a mission, I thought I was dead...”

You couldn't bear to hear anymore, you lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. He didn't know how to react at first but he slowly slipped his hands around your waist, pulling you into him. He held you like you were a lifeline, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“I'm so sorry Bucky… you didn't deserve this.”

He breathed deep, like he was holding back a sob. You rubbed your hands up and down his back, soothing him while he steadied his breathing again. He pulled away from you just enough to bring his face to yours, his breath fanned across your lips. You looked into each other's eyes, you could feel the mood change. Something was different.

He slid his gloved hand up your arm until it cradled your cheek, the leather feeling foreign on your skin. You put your hand over the glove, pulling it down to your face. Slowly turning over his hand you undid the strap on the top of his glove. Pulling the glove off, revealing a dark gray metal in place of fingers. There were intricate gold details woven through the thin plates of metal.

“Oh my god…”

“I know it's–” he tried to pull his hand away.

“It's beautiful.” You were in shock, it was like he was made of midnight sky with gold stars flying across it.

He was stunned to say the least, unsure of how to respond. Instead, he placed his steel hand on your cheek again. You thought it would be cold, unfeeling. It was quite the opposite, it felt as alive as him.

You turned your head to kiss the inside of his palm, trailing your lips down to the inside of his wrist. You could hear a small hum from his chest, an approval.

That made you want to test the waters.

You put his hand back on your face, moving your face closer to him. You couldn't lie, you wanted to see what his arm looked like, actually, all of him. You slid your hand from his wrist up to his bicep and felt the lines of metal under the cotton shirt clinging to his body. He jolted in surprise but didn’t move away from you as you ran your fingers over the curves of muscle on his arms.

You could still see some hesitation in his beautiful eyes, telling you not many other people might have seen as much of him. You wanted to show him this wasn't some meaningless fling to you, you understood the gravity of this for him.

“James…” He smirked at the formality. “You can tell me to stop.”

The thought never came to him. Instead of putting it into words, he hauled you into his seated lap. The motion pleasantly surprised you, you were glad he took charge and made the decision. You could feel the hardness under your thighs, making it seem like all of him was made of metal. The slightest roll of your hips made him groan from deep in his chest.

“Baby I-” The nickname slipped off his tongue so naturally you almost missed it. “I haven't, uhh, you know– it's been a while.”

“Hey, it's ok. Me too,” you laughed at yourself. Dating in a small town is hard, especially when you know everyone and everyone knows you. You were still moving in his lap, almost undetectable, but enough to make his length harden.

You couldn't tell but he was losing his grip, trying to hold back and not rush you either. You had him mesmerized, lost in your eyes and his hands on your hips that were moving against him. He wanted nothing more than to touch every inch and taste just as much. You were lazily kissing, neither one wanted to break the spell.

His lips were soft like silk and he smelled like smoke and motor oil. The thought of him working on that boat with Sam made your thighs clench. You could imagine him bare chested and sweaty out in the Louisiana sun. You intertwined your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck to draw him closer. The motion sealed your lips together further and his tongue danced across yours as his hands roamed your body. He caressed and squeezed every curve he could find, leaving you breathless.

You needed more.

You wanted to taste him.

You kissed your way down his neck and clothed chest all while trying to remove his shirt. You slid down on your knees between his thighs and looked up at him with bated breath. He didn't object to your action and you took it as a sign to continue. You worked the button and zipper open on his jeans and he moved his hips out of the confining fabric. His hard length was tenting his underwear and your mouth practically watered at the sight. Your hands on his thighs slid closer to the waistband of his boxers, pulling the fabric slightly. You peppered little kisses and small bites along all his clothed skin, watching him get visibly harder.

“Oh fuck baby…” his voice was dark and soothing. He was holding back for your sake, letting you do what you want but he was slowly starting to slip.

You finally removed the remaining clothing around his hips and motioned for him to remove his shirt. The muscles on his chest strained with the effort and before he leaned back again you were on him. You wrapped your mouth around the head dripping with precum before he even saw you do it.

“Shit–” His hands flew into your hair to hold you just like that and he relaxed into the couch. Your mouth worked him the best you could but he wasn't a small guy by any standard. Your eyes watered when you took him all the way, your nose hitting the curls at the base of him. He groaned at the warmth of your mouth and knew he wouldn't last long. You bobbed your head up and down while his large hand gripped your hair, pulling just hard enough to feel good. You knew you were dripping, ruining your underwear but you didn't care. All you wanted was to hear this man moan your name for as long as he’d allow. Your name came in broken moans as he chased his high.

Bucky was getting carried away, he should be the one pleasing you not the other way around, he thought. But when you slid your tongue up the vein running along him, he was powerless to stop you. He almost felt guilty for it but couldn't bring himself to make you stop, you felt too good.

The salty taste of precum told you he was close, painfully close, so naturally… you slowed down. You were torturing him a little bit but having this powerful super soldier in the palm of your hand was just too good. You could see the almost painful look in his face when he looked down at you, urging you to touch him.

“James… I need you.”

His name, those three words, it sent him tumbling over that edge of control. He extended his hand to help you up and before you could get your bearings he pulled you down to fall onto the couch. So there you were, face down in the pillow with your fully clothed ass in his face. He pulled the band of your soft pants down your hips, along with your underwear, fully exposing you. The cool air of the room brushed your skin as he moved behind you. His hands were steady as they moved across the skin of your ass. You were dripping no doubt. The slick feeling was making you blush, Bucky hadn’t even really touched you yet and you were practically putty in his hands.

Your heart was thundering in your chest knowing he was staring at you, probably deciding what to do. After a brief moment he pulled you up against his chest, one hand on your chest over your shirt and the other sneaking up under the hem of the fabric.

“Jesus, you…” he nuzzled his nose into the hair draped over your neck. “You're so soft.”

He ran his hands under your top and pulled the thin bra over your hardening nipples. He lightly brushed his fingertips over the pebbled skin and you unclasped the band of your bra and pulled off your top to let him have full access to all of you. His touch was so soft and sweet, it made you even wetter. You had a feeling he was holding back because he was afraid to hurt you.

Oh, if he only knew.

“Please, Bucky… I-I want you. All of you.” your voice was so small that you barely heard it.

“What baby? What do you need?”

You clenched around nothing hearing his voice, whining a response not able to form words. You pushed your hips back into him, feeling his hard length against your soft backside. His voice echoed in your ear, almost like a low growl from his chest.

“I– p-please…” You were delirious. And his roaming hands were not helping.

His lips were just as curious as his hands. His tongue was tracing the strong pulse in your neck all the way up to your ear. He sucked on the sensitive skin behind your ear and you rolled your head back to accommodate him. You couldn't help how your eyes fluttered closed when he pulled your hair back to keep your neck exposed. His fingers were tangled in your hair, he completely controlled where your head was. You moaned as he continued to lick and nip at your neck and slowly inched his metal fingers toward your slick center.

The dark metal was biting in a good way, harder than flesh but still comforting to the touch. The gold glinted off the low light in the room, catching your eye. Your gaze followed his fingers as they spread the wetness around your clit. You moaned as he sped up his movements until you were a painting mess, his arms the only thing holding you up.

“Oh f-fuck… mmm Ja–James…” You whined when he pushed his middle two fingers into your heat. Your hips ground onto his hand, the metal smooth yet the grooves in the design made you dizzy as your sensitive bundle of nerves ground into the heel of his hand. You were seeing stars and were quickly barreling toward a release. His chest pressed against your back let you feel his climbing heartbeat and rapid breathing.

Just as you felt a warmth start to spread in your lower stomach, he pulled his expert fingers away. You slumped against the loss and moaned in protest.

“I need to see your face when you cum.”

He swallowed your moan and shifted you to lay on your back, ever so softly. Ever the gentleman. Your heart swelled. Before you had a chance to register, his massive arms opened your legs and pushed your knees up to your chest. His grip was strong enough to bruise and you hoped it did. He ran his metal fingers over your soft folds, through your slick and hummed as he licked it off.

“Mhmm, sweet as apple pie.” He gave you that devastatingly brilliant smirk that just made you melt.

You hummed as he rubbed his tip through your folds, his chest exhaling above your face. He locked eyes with you as he guided his length into your swollen pussy. You practically purred as he bottomed out inside you. It was like liquid ecstasy was running through your veins, something you never experienced before.

“Jesus Christ, look at you doll.” His voice sounded like it had been dragged out of him, across gravel. The sound made you clench around him. “Y’look so pretty like this…” his words were almost slurred, like he was drunk on you.

And if he was honest with himself; he was drunk on you. This was a new feeling, entirely its own. It felt like his body was reacting to yours in some indescribable way. As he rocked into you, the only sounds were of your quiet moans and breaths, your noises spurring him on more.

“L-let me hear you baby… talk t– talk to me.”

“James… oh my– my god, you feel so…so good.” You clung onto his arms as they framed your head. You turned toward his mechanic arm, your lips meeting his thumb. You licked the digit, wanting to feel the metal in your mouth. He must have noticed your unconscious movements because he adjusted his arm and cupped his hand around your jaw, the thumb teasing your bottom lip. His hips never lost their rhythm as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. You moaned and sucked on his finger and his grip tightened on your face and eventually slid to your neck.

You couldn’t help the small smile that broke on your lips. You knew he saw it, and that he knew what it meant. The metal digits tightened around your throat, just enough to send stars across your vision.

“Oh fuck… you’re so fu— fucking tight. You— you like that don’t you? You like my hand around your throat?”

He was picking up the pace now. Whether he meant to or not his hips were slamming into you much harder now, every thrust causing his grip to tighten on your neck. The lewd noise of him moving inside you was ringing in your ears, the loss of blood flow made you dizzy. But you think you might just die if he stopped.

He kept his Vibranium hand on your pulse while he sat back and reached between you. For a moment you thought he was going to stop but when his fingers found your sensitive clit, you gasped at the feeling. He knew just how to fill your veins with fire, set your whole body ablaze. As he expertly circled your bundle of nerves you could feel his significant size swell inside you. You knew he was close.

“Bu— Bucky… please…” your words were long and drawn out. You were teetering on the edge now, practically vibrating with your pent up release. You needed one thing, one small thing to send you over that edge.

And he was that one thing.

“Fuck— where?”

You knew his release was going to be your salvation. You wrapped your legs around his hips, sealing him to you, telling him to empty inside you. Your walls clamped down on him, wringing him dry as he came and practically whined in your ear. He never stopped his movements on your clit. Feeling him finish inside you was all you needed to scream his name as the fire in your veins exploded. You came harder than you ever have before, like nothing you ever experienced.

You both could do nothing but lay there as your bodies recovered. Bucky stroked your arm and hummed as you nuzzled into him.

“Shower?” his chest rumbled with the words.

“Only if I can come with.”

“Deal.”

He kissed you all the way to the bathroom and didn’t let you lift a finger while he turned on the shower and made sure there were towels for both of you.

You didn’t know what to expect of the mysterious soldier but, boy you were not disappointed.

Sadly, you had a feeling deep in your stomach that he wouldn’t be around long. I mean, who can expect a superhero to stick around for very long when there is a whole word to save.

But damn it if you weren’t going to enjoy it while it lasted.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel smut #fanfic

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most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer · 9 months

Text

Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

#edited to add the note about crowley's perspective right after the cut! apologies if it seemed anti-aziraphale before!#good omens meta #good omens lockdown #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorcees #i can't even imagine navigating the pandemic brain scramblies while pining THAT HARD #Aziraphale is a company man (gn) but i think S3 will cure him of that #long but if i can't write essays about this on tumblr then where #good omens spoilers

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thepascalofus · 8 months

Text

First Date

AO3

Pre-outbreak/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x Home Depot Worker!f!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: Working at Home Depot was lack-luster. The paint department brought in a variety of customers, the majority of them just buying their paint and leaving. Then Joel Miller comes in--looking to repaint his daughters bedroom.

Content Warnings/Tags: Pre-outbreak/No-outbreak, reader works at Home Depot, fluff, meet-cute, rude customer, Joel defends you, eventual smut (next part), eventual first date, no descriptions for reader, no y/n.

A/N: Got this as a request! There will be another part with smut.

“More saving. More doing. That’s the power of the Home Depot.”

The wannabe gruff voice of the Home Depot narrator echoed throughout the large cement warehouse. It was Sunday, only two hours until close, and the store was virtually dead.

A large rectangular box of a warehouse was your place of employment for the time being. Orange decorated aisle after aisle, and employee after employee. Some employees decorated their aprons in paint and pins, showing their years of employment and dedication to their jobs. Others simply had their name written on their apron, just like how they simply showed up to work and left.

After moving out of the house you shared with your ex and into your own place, you needed the extra income to supplement your new rent and the remaining rent you owed on your shared lease.

Home Depot was hiring—and was desperate—because you got employed in the paint department.

Making paint wasn’t hard at all. It was the shitty customers that ruined it. Customers would demand to see a manager after you told them their paint wasn’t ready—even though they asked for three five-gallon buckets, and ten single gallons, fifteen minutes ago. People would order the same amount in a color they swore they would love, and then attempted to return it the next day, even though NO REFUNDS was printed in bold on the Home Depot paint sticker.

But, working behind the paint counter had its perks. You could stay in one place in the store, telling customers who needed help with complicated items that you, “had to stay and watch the desk.” Plus the desk had a phone, which allowed you to call any department, so your more knowledgeable coworkers could take over tough questions.

The only types of customers left at this hour were those that had emergencies, and those that liked to put things off until the last minute.

Getting tired of sitting behind the desk’s computer on your phone, you got up and walked the three aisles that made up the department. Your footsteps lightly tapped against the gray concrete of the floor. With each step, you scanned the shelves and the floor for anything out of place. Returning misplaced items was an easy task that helped you eat away at the remaining time of your shift.

A tube of caulk was placed right in the middle of the gallons of wood stain—classic. You reached downwards to retrieve the tube and stood back up, pacing down the shelves of orange towards the caulking aisle. The music over the loudspeakers was just quiet enough to hear the surrounding conversations in the other aisles.

One voice echoed to you louder than the rest. Randy’s voice.

Randy was a retired mechanic. Most of his skills were applicable to the questions customers often had. The man had wiry, white hair that peaked out from this Home Depot baseball cap he wore everyday. His apron was covered in various stains of grease and dirt, his name scrawled in Sharpie on the upper right corner of the orange fabric.

From a couple aisles over, his gruff voice made its way towards you, “Ah! Paint for a bedroom…Well let’s see, is this a kids bedroom?”

A deep, Texan drawl replied to Randy, “It is, ‘s fer my daughter. She wan’ed her room repainted for her birthday. She’s turnin’ thirteen. Says she needs to get rid’a the ‘baby colors’ from when she was lil’.”

Randy let out a hearty laugh, followed by a muted smack, likely from giving the man a pat on the back, “I know how that feels,” Randy paused to let out another laugh, “My daughter is in her twenties now, but she was the same way as yours. Thirteen hit and she insisted she was allll grown up.”

You retreated to the paint desk with a small smile on your face, it was nice that the man wanted to repaint for his daughter. Your watch told you it was an hour and thirty until close. This customer just had to wait until the last minute, though.

The unknown man let out a chuckle at Randy’s anecdote. Slow, muted steps from both men made their way towards the paint department’s aisles. One of the men let out a deep sigh.

“Thing is, I dunno a single thing ‘bout what colors’ll look nice together.”

The footsteps came closer and the two men appeared in your vision. One central aisle lined up with the paint desk, making somewhat of a runway for customers to walk on to come and request paint. Randy looked down the aisle and his gaze met yours, “Oh! There she is,” Randy said your name to the man, “she knows a ton about colors, I’m sure she could help ya more than I can.”

Randy truly was a nice man. He helped you deal with rude customers. Showed you basic tips and tricks. Ate with you in the break room on occasion.

But, c’mon Randy.

The old man continued walking towards the break room and left the man standing at the end of the aisle. You looked down, pretending you didn’t hear the majority of their conversation. Organizing the paint samples became a very consuming task. Heavy steps made their way closer and closer until your peripheries were consumed with the navy blue color of the Texan’s shirt.

His large hands rested on the desk’s countertop. Thick digits were covered in calluses. Before you could observe his fingers more, he cleared his throat.

“‘Scuse me, miss. S’wondering if you could help me w’ somethin’,” the man drawled out.

Your eyes looked up from the desk, and they widened in surprise. The front of his shirt had orange letters displayed on the front: MILLER CONTRACTING LLC.

Most contractors that ventured into the paint department weren’t as…put together as this man was. The usual paint covered pants and shirt weren’t present on this contractor. The navy blue of his work shirt spanned across his wide chest and even wider shoulders. Sleeves hugged his biceps deliciously. If he moved his arms any more you were worried the sleeves would rip. Not that you’d complain.

Then you looked up to meet his eyes.

His eyes.

Brown irises held eye contact with you. They were deep, warm. Inviting. The color made you think of a teddy bear. Soft and comforting. Brown hair on his head and face matched his eyes. The hair on his head consisted of messy waves combed to one general side, probably from a sweep of his fingers. Short, dark brown hairs made up his beard and mustache. Each facial hair component framed handsome features. A strong jaw was framed by his beard, and plush lips were framed by the ‘stache.

The same lips were forming a smile spanning across his face. His eyes crinkled and displayed slight lines near the corners. Lines developed from years of laughter and smiles.

Realizing you looked at him blankly for a second too long, you snapped out of your trance, “O-of course! What do you need help with?”

His hands came up off of the counter and rested on his hips. “Well, y’see, it’s my daughters thirteenth birthday comin’ up. She’s had this yellow color in ‘er room since she was a baby,” he let out a small sigh, as if he was reminiscing, “an’ she wants ‘er room repainted.”

You heard the conversation he had with Randy before, but you didn’t want to come off as a creep for eavesdropping. “Ah, ok! That’s nice of you, and seems easy enough! Do you know what color she wants?”

He let out another sigh. His eyes met yours. The man looked like a sad, lost puppy. “I know her favorite colors, pink and purple, but there’s just so many options,” he turned and gestured with a broad hand towards the rainbow wall of paint swatches. “An’ darlin’, I tried to do m’own research, watchin’ some Martha Stewart shows, but then Martha started talkin’ about warm colors and cool colors,” he let out a chuckle accompanied by a broad smile, raising his hands in front of his chest, “and then she lost me.”

Darlin’.

Other customers called you that condescendingly. When you didn’t know the difference between one screw and another. But the man’s endearing use of the word made your heart melt.

You smile back at him and lean forward on the counter. “Well, I think the first step is just the color. After that, we can worry about warm tones and cool tones,” you gave him a playful smirk.

He chuckled once more. “Sounds like a plan t’me,” he started walking towards the paint swatches. You snuck out from behind the counter and followed him to the pinks and purples.

“So I was thinkin’ of doin’ both pink and purple, but I dunno what looks good together.” The man started reaching for a card of pink. You took the moment to admire his forearms. Thin, dark hairs covered the surface of his tan skin. Muscles flexed on the front of his arm, displaying the years of manual labor the man has endured.

A pink swatch, Valentine, appeared in front of your face, accompanied by a lavender swatch, Kiss and Tell.

Valentine was bright, Barbie pink. Kiss and Tell was a light purple, the color the wax of a lavender candle would be. You admired his dedication to doing both of his daughter’s favorite colors, but the pair didn’t look too great together. The corner of your mouth perked up, displaying the thought you were putting into the pairing.

“No?” The man asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. His brows slanted downwards and his eyes resembled those of a lost puppy.

“Hmmm. Does she usually wear lighter colors,” you pointed towards the lavender swatch, “or brighter colors?” You gestured to the pink swatch.

He looked down at the swatches and his brow furrowed. The man was standing so close, you could smell cedar and musk from his cologne. His large biceps slightly brushed your upper arms as he turned to face you, “I reckon she likes the lighter colors.”

You took the lavender swatch, Kiss and Tell, from the man. Your fingers brushed against his thick, calloused ones as the card came into your possession. “Ok, so we’ll stick with the light purple! Let’s find a pink to match this one,” you smiled at him and he returned the expression.

Turning your body slightly towards the pinks, you started picking swatch after swatch off of the wall. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the man watching you in awe. Once several pink cards were in your hands, you went back to the paint desk.

You laid the cards out on a blank, white piece of paper. Five pink swatches were in a row on the paper with the lavender swatch below them. The man stood next to you and leaned over your shoulder to get a better look. A husky voice drawled in your ear, “So which one d’ya think, darlin’?”

You bit your lip at the warmth in his tone. A small shiver traveled up and down your spine, leaving a tingling in its wake. His tone was warm, and so was his upper arm. It grazed against your arm and left it warm and fuzzy. Brown eyes scanned over the options and then locked with yours.

His gaze was incredibly soft. He looked desperate. The image of a lost puppy crossed your mind yet again. A small smile was spread on his face, roping you further into your tiny crush on the customer.

You give him a small smile, which his eyes crinkled further at, and you inform him, “Unfortunately, I can only give you my opinion. I can’t make the decision for you.” One of the man’s eyebrows raised and he gave you a slight frown. “Why’s that?” His voice lilted in question.

Giving him a slight shrug, you explain, “Well, I’ve made decisions for people before, and sometimes they come back and blame me for ‘ruining their walls’. I can tell you what I think looks good! Buuut I’m not going to decide for you,” you gave him a sweet smile.

Cedar and musk filled your nose again as he leaned closer. Your gaze dipped downard and followed one of his large hands. The calloused fingertips on his thick digits gripped the paper, and dragged in between the two of you.

His opposite hand was set next to yours. A strong arm brushed against you. The hand holding onto the paper spanned across the page, “Well, tell me what’cha think, hon’?”

Hon’.

The feeling was quick, but intense. It washed over you like a soothing, warm bath. Ease seeped into your bones and then crept up into your cheeks. Your face felt hot at the term of endearment. Turning back towards the swatches, your lip found its way behind your front teeth once more.

You went through the details of each potential pairing. Telling him which ones you thought were too warm, too muted, or too cool. The best pairing was with a light, baby pink. The swatch read:

First Date

Reading the color name, of course Behr had a weird color name for a damn light pink, your face got even hotter. Your hands collected the other pinks and set the light pink and light purple next to each other.

The man picked the two cards and held them up to each other in front of his face. His gaze scanned the names of the two cards. “Kiss and Tell,” he softly muttered, his eyes gliding across the other name, “First Date,” he gave a slight smirk. It was as if he read your mind, he bit his lip, then released it. His tongue darted out to soothe the pinch on his bottom lip.

“Ok darlin’,” he started, “how much paint do I need for a ten by ten room?”

“Well, a gallon covers three hundred to four hundred square feet,” you trailed off, “depending on how many coats you want to do, you’ll need one to two gallons.”

His mouth scrunched up to one side and he hummed, “How much is a gallon?”

Your mouth slanted in thought, “Well, it depends on what type of paint you’re looking to get.”

He smiled and tilted his head at your words, “Typa paint? Darlin’, I thought there was just paint,” he softly chuckled out, “an’ I usually make my brother do the paint shoppin’.” His confession brought a smile to your face. It wasn’t uncommon. Whenever people bought paint, they were slightly taken aback at how many questions you needed to ask them.

You started to walk to the left, towards a mat laid out on the paint desk counter. The brown mat displayed different qualities and brands of paint, which increased in price as you looked towards the right end of the lineup. You took a breath to start your usual line of questions, “Okay, so how many coats of paint are you looking to do? These paints,” you slid your finger to the more expensive end of the lineup, “have more primer in them, so they’re thicker. The thicker the paint, the fewer coats you have to do. Some paints have a one coat guarantee,” you finished and looked to his eyes to read his expression.

His mouth repeated its action from earlier, scrunching to the side, “Hmmm, I s’pose one coat would be less work…” He went silent for a moment as he thought. You could almost see him running the numbers in his head. “Alrigh’, I think I’ll go with two gallons of the one coat,” he finished by placing one of his hands down next to yours on the mat. The man’s eyes twinkled as he looked into yours and gave you a soft smile.

The smile he gave you was returned with your own, “Okay! So what sheen do you want the paint to be?” His smile shifted into confusion once more. Lines on his forehead deepened due to his perplexed look. “Sheen?” He asked.

You gave him a soft giggle. Reaching across him and towards a board of wooden paint swatches, you gave him a small, “‘Scuse me,” and his cologne filled your nose once more. Your shoulder brushed against his arm on your way back to your original positioning.

Facing the swatches towards him, you explained, “So sheens are how shiny the paint is once it dries. You can have no shine, which is a flat sheen, and you can go all the way up to very shiny, which is a high gloss. Usually bedrooms are eggshell or satin,” you pointed to the corresponding wood pieces. Tapping one of the shinier samples, you added, “And the shinier the finish, the more durable it is, and the easier it is to wipe, if you wanted to clean the wall.”

You leaned towards him, pointing at one specific wood sample block, “If your daughter likes to draw on the walls, I’d get satin, or even a semi-gloss.”

He huffed in amusement at your suggestion. “Guess I forgot kids draw on walls,” he chuckled, “Sarah’s ‘n angel, she prefers paper instead of drywall.” His wholesome anecdote made you giggle and look into his eyes.

The man gave you a small wink in response to your laughter. Taking a breath in, he pointed to a wooden sample a few spaces above the one you pointed at, “Lets go w’ eggshell.” His finger dwarfed the block of wood as he gave the material two light taps with his fingertip. Gazing at his hands, they were calloused, but also well kept. Fingernails at the ends of his thick digits were trimmed short, utilitarian.

You smiled at his decision, “Okay! Well, I’m going to go make labels for these two gallons and then I’ll mix ‘em up for you!” He beamed at your words and leaned against the counter, “Sounds good t’me, sweetheart.”

Your face flushed with heat at his response, and you hurriedly went to the other side of the counter to enter the two gallons into the computer. A white screen filled your vision as you tapped the different buttons to narrow down which type of paint the computer needed to calculate formulas for.

As you tapped one button, the computer froze for a couple seconds. You frowned, “It always does this,” you thought. Not having to focus on the options on the screen, your vision instead focused on the reflection displaying what was behind you. Your eyes landed on the Texan man.

And his eyes were on you.

You watched as he bit the inside of his cheek, his mind lost in his thoughts. His gaze remained on you until he nodded to himself and looked down. Though he wasn’t observing the different paints on the mat, he was reaching into his pocket.

One of his hands sprawled out on the counter as he held down one of the paint samples and began to write on the paper in black sharpie, the item he retrieved from his jeans. The computer wasn’t too far from the counter, and you were semi-able to see what he was writing.

It was a phone number.

Your eyes widened and you returned your focus to the computer's screen. It definitely loaded a while ago and you hadn’t noticed. You pressed the, “PRINT LABELS” button and tore the stickers from the printer. Not making eye contact with him—still panicking over what you witnessed—you made your way down the center aisle and found the cans needed for the paint colors.

But your lazy coworkers haven’t been downstocking the cans, so they were just out of reach when you were on your tip-toes. You sprawled your fingers up towards the top of the can, hoping to find the handle with your finger tips.

Then heavy steps made their way over to you. The Texan’s signature cologne wafted towards you, “Lemme help ya’ with that, darlin’.” Before you could answer him, he reached and grabbed two gallons down from the just-out-of-reach shelf. He lifted them up so you could see the faces of the can, his face framed by two paint cans, “Are these the right ones?” You nodded, and he made his way back to the paint counter with them. Internally swooning at his help, you followed behind him, but returned to the opposite side of the counter as him.

He set the cans down with a, thunk, thunk, and smiled at you. You gave him a smile as you took the cans, “Thank you,” you said to him. His smile broadened, “‘Course.”

You brought the open gallons underneath the tint dispensers, each gallon getting a small amount of tint. Hammering echoed throughout the store as you closed each gallon, then put them in the paint shakers to mix.

Looking up from the floor, where the paint shakers were, back to the counter, you saw the man’s thick fingers tapping on the surface of it. Your eyes traveled from his fingers to his face. His gaze met yours and his lips parted, “What’cha got goin’ on for the rest of the night?”

You had to force your mouth to not smile too wide as you answered him with a sigh, “Just finishing up my shift, then going home,” you paused to think about what else to say, “I’m just glad I don’t have to work for the next two days,” you chuckled out.

His face and shoulders fell playfully, “Oh, I’m jealous,” he shook his head, “I’ve gotta work the next four days, n’ then I’m off for two.” He shook his head even more. Your lips slanted in sympathy and you were about to offer it, but the man continued, “Never become a contractor hon’,” he let out a breath, “I’s shitty hours ‘n shitty clients.”

Brown eyes widened and then looked at you, he placed a wide palm over his chest, “Sorry sweetheart,” he chuckled, “Jus’ had a long day.”

You laughed at his apologetic behavior, it was endearing, “You don’t have to be sorry!” You continued to laugh, but then lowered your voice. Leaning towards him, you murmured, “Home Depot has shitty hours and shitty clients too,” you winked at him.

His teeth shined in the broad smile he displayed for you. A series of laughs left his chest. Two large hands both rested on the surface of the counter as he looked down and, more quietly, continued his chuckling. After a couple seconds, brown eyes peered back up into yours. The twinkles in his irises matched his smile.

“Hope I’m not a shitty client,” he joked, but his eyebrows faltered in sincerity.

Your head tilted at him with soft eyes. Scrunching your lips to one side, you decided to be somewhat bold, “I think you’re one of the best I’ve had in a while.”

His face relaxed and his soft smile returned. The lines between his eyebrows became more prominent as he gave you those brown, puppy-dog eyes. “Well thank ya’, darlin’,” he drawled. You held his eye contact until you caught movement in your peripheral—his thumb brushed against the light pink paint sample. The dark mustache above his lip twitched as he bit the inside of his cheek again.

Click. Click.

The sounds indicated the timers on the paint shakers were up. And the gallons were done mixing. Breaking eye contact, you bent down to retrieve the gallons from the machines. Opening them up, you put your finger into each can and dotted the color on the top of the can. They were closed once more and you slid them over to the man across the counter.

He looked down at them, and then his face lit up. “Oh! D’ya mind puttin’ these colors on my account?” You were equally lit up at his request, as customers usually didn’t care about the paint accounts they could make to save their paint colors.

Using the computer closest to him, you tapped a few buttons and a series of fields popped up. You pressed on the field for a phone number, “What’s your phone number?” You asked him. Your face heated up at the meaning of the words in a different context.

He told you and you typed them in, pressing enter on your keyboard. One account popped up: JOEL MILLER. “He definitely looked like a Joel,” you thought to yourself. “Joel?” You asked out loud to confirm it was his account. His name tumbling from your lips made his face light up. A charming smile was framed by a dark beard and ‘stache. “That’s me,” he replied.

You clicked on the account and entered the colors under, “Sarah’s Room,” Joel told you. The information was saved after a press of the “SAVE” button. His hands came up to grip the thin, metal handles of the paint gallons. Sliding them off the counter, his mouth opened and then closed again. He bit his lip, then looked at you, “Thank you darlin’, have a good night.”

Your brow dropped a bit, expecting for him to give you his number—for different reasons this time. Before he got too far, you replied, “Of course! Have a good night, Joel!” He threw you a wide, toothed smile over his shoulder. Joel’s smile was wide, but his eyes lacked the same enthusiasm.

—

No one else approached the counter after a couple minutes, so you retreated to the computer to “do your training”. You sat on your phone, letting the training video play in the background—this video was literally anti-union propaganda. Mindlessly scrolling on social media, your thoughts wandered.

You felt dumb for expecting him to give you his number. He could’ve just written something else down on the card. Sighing, you turned and meandered the paint aisles to keep yourself busy. With slow steps you wandered past can after can. You made it to the third aisle, and a man stood at the end of it.

He had dark brown hair, wore a navy t shirt, and was built like Joel. Your footsteps became faster to greet him, but then the man turned and looked at you—it was not Joel.

The man sighed and rolled his eyes, “Finally, I’ve been waiting here for five minutes looking for one of you.”

Your eyes widened, the tone of this customer sharply contrasted the one of your last. Joel’s kind eyes and comforting drawl made this man’s voice compare to nails on a chalkboard. Staring at him, you realized he didn’t look like Joel at all. The rude man’s facial hair was unkempt and scraggly. His teeth must have had the same maintenance as this beard, as they were begging for a trip to the dentist. His hair had no style, not even a brushing of it in a general direction.

The awful whiny, rasp of his voice only heightened your disgust, “I’ve been looking for this thing,” he held his phone out and pointed at his screen, “it says you have it in stock in this aisle but I can’t find it.”

You hummed in response. After asking him to scroll down to view the products information, you typed the SKU for the item into your phone. The Home Depot app on your phone was the only way you could help people, otherwise you'd be lost. You typed the SKU into the app and made sure the app filtered for items in your store, not just the available items online.

OUT OF STOCK displayed under a picture of the item, next to your store name. You sighed, “I’m sorry sir, but it looks like we did have this item, but it's out of stock right now.”

The man’s eyebrows knitted together and he looked at you in shock, “What?” The word shot into your chest. Shit. You thought back to what you said to Joel earlier, “Home Depot has shitty hours and shitty clients too.”

You sighed, “Do you have the right store listed on your phone?” The man snapped his eyes to his screen confusedly. After a moment he held it back out for you to see, “I don’t know, you tell me,” he sneered.

Reading the “130 IN STOCK” on his screen, your vision trailed to the store next to it. That store was in a completely different area. Clearing your throat, you informed him, “Sir, that’s a store one hundred miles from here.” You braced for his reaction.

His screen faced him and he grumbled. “Well why doesn’t your damn app update the location when I search?” He rudely asked. Your breath caught in your throat at his harshness. “Can’t you look in the back if you have it?” He stated, like he worked here.

Another deep breath, “We don’t have a back sir, we do overhead stocking,” you looked up, “and I don’t see the item you’re looking for up there,” you swallowed. Heat flushed into your face in anxiety at the customer’s attitude.

“Fuckin’ useless,” the man spat under his breath at his phone, peering up at you. “Can’t even find a damn item,” he trailed off. Your throat clenched at his words. A shaky breath left your nose.

Heavy footsteps came from behind you and a wave of distaste washed through your bones. You swore if it was another entitled customer, you were going to go insane. Probably cry. Maybe scream. Definitely asking to go home early.

Someone cleared their throat behind you, “You’re bein’ quite harsh to ‘er for somethin’ that ain’t ‘er fault,” a Texan drawl announced. Recognizing the voice, you turned to see Joel’s built figure make its way over to you and the shitty client. A huff from the rude, scraggly man came from your left, “This ain’t any of your business, buddy.”

Your head snapped towards Joel to see his response, “The hell it ain’t,” his voice got slightly louder, “You’re the dumbass that can’t jus’ say you were lookin’ at the wrong goddamn store.” Eyes wide, your gaze shifted from one man to the other. Joel stood tall, brows furrowed, and muscles bulging in the sleeves of his t-shirt.

Scraggly man must have decided the argument wasn’t worth it, as he just grumbled and took his cart down the aisle and away from both of you. Joel sighed beside you, “‘M sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I knew ya coulda handled that, but he shouldn’t have been so rude to ya. Especially over his own damn mistake.”

Relief flooded your body in the absence of the shitty client. Warmth from Joel’s presence began to fill the rest of the space that the relief couldn’t. Then you started thinking, “How’d you know he put the wrong store in the app?” You asked Joel.

The contractor froze. Eyes wide. Brows towards the ceiling. Lips pinched together. He looked down at the cement floor and then back up to you, “I may have been eavesdropping from the aisle over.” He cocked his head towards the aisle he came from.

Joel took a deep breath and then cleared his throat. The same brown, puppy-dog eyes from earlier met your irises. He dug his hand into his front jeans pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Unfolding it, a light pink—First Date—sample card had a number in black sharpie scrawled across the color. “I came back to give ya this,” he held the paper out for you to take, and you took it from his large digits.

You stared at the card in shock. Okay. So he did plan on giving it to you.

He sighed and rubbed a broad palm over the back of his neck, “I was gonna give it to ya’ earlier but I got nervous,” he chuckled, “I, uh, I jus’ thought, uh, I think, that you’re very pretty, and funny.” He cleared his throat once more and continued, and you tore your gaze away from the paper to meet his eyes, “An’ I’d like to take ya’ out on a date sometime.” A heavy breath left his lungs.

A moment passed before you grinned at him and gave him a little chuckle, “I’d go on a date with you, Joel.” Broad shoulders covered in navy fabric slumped in relief. He grinned at you and his face flushed—he was blushing.

He checked his watch and muttered, “Shit.” Looking at you, his brows furrowed, “Sorry, darlin’, I’ve gotta run. Havin’ family dinner tonight.” Your heart throbbed at the care he had towards his family.

You waved a hand at him, heat rising towards your face at the loose plans you two had, “Well, don’t let me make you late!” He nodded at you, “Have a good night, sweetheart,” he said before slowly walking backwards down the aisle and away from you. “You too, Joel!” You replied before he turned the corner.

About to turn the corner, he shot you a grin with a wink.

Okay. Maybe working at Home Depot did have its perks.

#the last of us #joel miller #thepascalofus #tlou #thepascalofus fic #first date fic #thepascalofus first date #pre outbreak!joel #joel miller at home depot #home depot!joel #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #thepascalofus requests #joel miller fluff

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imtryingbuck · 7 months

Text

Possible Happy Ending

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, past Steve x fem!Reader

Summary: It’s been three years since Reader left Steve, after bumping into someone she might have the chance of a happy ending.

Word count: 1,156

Warnings: swearing, self-doubting. I’m pretty sure that’s it.

Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Three years have been and gone since you finally decided to leave Steve it hasn’t gotten any easier but you’re doing okay. Your mum rang you a few days after you left panicking saying Steve had showed up that you and your stuff had gone. A month after you left Steve and Sharon went public with their relationship, you were devastated so you went to the local shelter and got two kittens why? You’re not entirely sure but you love them both so much.

Four months after you left, you’re walking to the local cafe when suddenly you bump into someone straight away your spluttering apologies when your name is suddenly said. Bucky is standing in front of you with a big smile on his face asking where you have been; how you’ve been. You both head to the cafe to talk and it’s going amazingly well. He tells you he missed seeing you around and that Steve looked for you everywhere. You exchange numbers with him promising not to tell Steve, even though he’s with Sharon now you don’t want him showing up as you just simply can’t deal with that anymore.

In the following weeks and months after meeting Bucky again he becomes your best friend (your only friend too) he comes to the apartment every Friday and even sometimes stays until Sunday. He truly is the sweetest man ever, his favourite thing to do is wind the cats up and getting them hyper just before he leaves. It drives you crazy you complain with a smile on your face as you can’t even imagine to be mad at him not when he has that stupid beautiful smile on his face.

Now you’re not exactly sure when it started but the feelings for Bucky were starting to get out of hand, you knew yourself it would be so wrong to say anything to him about how you had this butterfly tingling feeling in your stomach which has now turned into pterodactyls trying to break out of your stomach every time he looks at you. It’s wrong. He’s your ex-boyfriends best friend. Plus he’s James Buchanan Barnes he’s not going to like you the only reason why he’s here at your apartment every weekend ordering pizza or Chinese and talking to you about anything and everything for hours is because he feels sorry for you. Idiot.

A year after you left it went public that the it couple known as Steve and Sharon had broken up. From what Bucky told you Steve apparently walked into the apartment he shared with you and caught Sharon cheating with a guy Steve had been suspicious of. According to Buck Steve was crying out your name and begging up at the ceiling for you to come home.

A few days after that Steve was seen with a new woman on his arm. Your sister.

Your heart shattered, ringing your mum she told you that everyone thought it was okay for your sister to date you ex because he was your ex. You hung up and cried. The tears didn’t last long though as Bucky let himself into your apartment and found you in bed crying so he climbed into bed with you and cuddled you. You’re pretty sure you both ended up watching The Big Bang Theory but couldn’t remember as you were too busy watching Bucky laughing and stroking one of the cats.

Your sister and Steve didn’t last two months because every time they had sex it was your name finally spilling from his mouth.

It’s your birthday and the plan was to have a nice hot relaxing bath then order yourself a Chinese and curl up on the couch with the cats and watch your favourite show. Simple and plain. That was until your favourite person knocked on the door with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers, Chinese food and a bag with ‘happy birthday’ written across it. He tells you that you shouldn’t be spending your birthday on your own, so you point to the cats and with that he lets out that sound that makes your heart flutter. Halfway through the fourth episode of the series he suggested, you notice him looking at you, so you pull a weird face which again makes him let out that sound. You mentally scold your idiotic heart to stop fluttering.

“Y/n I need to tell you something” he speaks so softly and instantly you can tell he’s nervous.

“What’s up Buck” trying to hard not to stumble over three simple words.

“I-um w-well I need y I-I need to tell you s-s-something” he’s struggling and that gets you scared.

“B-Bucky you can tell me anything you know this” God if you’re real please kill me. Now.

Taking a deep breath, he says “iminlovewithyou”

“What? Say that again Buck but slower” did I just hear correctly? No. He didn’t just say that you idiot. Wishful thinking though pal.

“I’m in love with you. I have been since you stitched up my arm even though I heal fast six years ago. W-when he told me you two was dating, I was crushed and I knew it was wrong your was my best friends girlfriend but I couldn’t help it. You’re an angel absolutely perfect. When you broke up with him I was more devastated than him because I knew I wouldn’t get to see you again but then we bumped into each other a-and them feelings was still ther - oh shit Y/N shit I didn’t mean to make you cry im sor-“ he didn’t get to finish that word because you kissed him.

You kissed him.

Holy shit.

What do you do?

Do you stop?

Do you continue?

Oh.

He’s kissing you back.

Took you long enough Bucky, jeez.

After what felt like an eternity you both pulled apart breathless with huge dopey smiles on your faces.

“Are you sure Bucky? Are you sure that this is how you really feel?” Shut up! Why are you asking?

“Baby I’m in love with you. My heart aches when I’m not with you. You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing when I close my eyes and even then, you just follow me into my dreams” There isn’t any hesitation or hint that this could all be a wind up.

“I’m in love with you too. I know it’s terrible since who your best friend is but I can’t hel-“ this time he cuts you off with his perfect plumb lips on yours.

Bucky picks you up like you weigh nothing and carries you to bed. He kisses every stretch mark, scar, beauty mark on your entire body as he makes love to you, he tells you how much he loves you. Laying in his arms sweaty and breathless you can’t help it when a few rogue tears slip onto his chest.

Tags: @bruher @cjand10 @themotherof10 @spngingerbread21 @behindmygreyeyes @hnnhbananananana @reguluscrystals

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

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crypticreid · 7 months

Text

KINKTOBER DAY FIVE

October 17 -- Breeding

masterlist

author's note: sorry this is so late. i came down with a little bug or something on sunday and was down all day monday too. but finally starting to feel better. this is shorter and not as edited as usual due to sickness. I've also switched out breeding with the planned prompt (squirting). that prompt will still happen, just later. thanks for reading <333

summary: You decide to revisit a previous conversation with Spencer and explore something new.

warnings: female reader, fingering, good girl usage, unprotected sex, dom!spencer, dirty talk

word count: 1.8k

this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

“We need to talk,” you decide to just come out and say it.

For the last week, you’ve been dropping hints to Spencer and waiting for him to understand what you are trying to say, but he hasn’t. The 187 IQ and the best profiling skills in the country didn’t do much when he was rather oblivious to subtleties.

He’s sitting on the worn, well-loved couch of his apartment leisurely reading and finishing The Metamorphosis by Kafka for the millionth time, a pile of more books littering the coffee table in front of him.

“Spencer.” You say a little louder and he looks up from his book and smiles at you.

“Hey, I didn't realize you were awake. Do you want breakfast?”

“I need to talk to you,” you repeat yourself.

He swallows nervously and you realize you might’ve taken a misstep in your delivery. “No, no it’s nothing bad.” You scramble to say and race over to the couch to sit beside him. The leather couch that you once jokingly said made you feel like you were in a psychiatrist’s office, creaks lightly as you position yourself so that you can face Spencer, your legs crossed in front of you.

One of his hands reaches for one of yours and holds it, his thumb smoothing over your skin. “What do you need?”

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. You weren’t nervous, but any sort of relatively serious conversation still made your stomach do little tiny flips. “Do you remember a couple months ago when we talked about… um,” you can feel yourself blushing.

Spencer’s brows furrow and you can tell his mind is racing to try and remember any significant conversations the two of you have had.

“In that hotel room.” You supply.

He lets out a breath, “that doesn’t really help. We’re in hotels more than we’re at home.”

You let out your own breath, frustrated at your inability to just come out and say what you want. You close your eyes and allow the words to spill forth, “when I wanted you to fuck me without a condom.” You squeeze your eyes in a grimace and then force them open.

Spencer’s mouth is open, his cheeks pink and rosy. He blinks, closes his mouth, opens it, licks his bottom lip, and then shuts his mouth again. The hand holding yours tightens almost undetectably.

“Spencer?” You whisper.

He clears his throat, “I remember.”

“Well, I’d like to revisit that conversation.”

His back straightens, like he’s a professor who has just been asked to defend his entire life’s work. “Okay.” He nods, a few strands of errant hair falling across his forehead. You reach up and push the hair back into place.

“Is that something you would be comfortable with?” You ask.

“Having sex without protection?” He clarifies and you nod to confirm. He swallows and runs his free hand through his hair, clearly nervous. “I’ve never…”

“I know.” You incline your head toward his and press a feather-light kiss to his lips and then sit back again. “We don’t have to if you don’t want, but –”

“Is it something you want?”

“Yes.” You squeeze his hand.

“Do you want to get pregnant?” He asks point-blankly and it makes your stomach clench. You look away from his intense eye contact and you feel your body heat under his gaze.

“No.” You say, which is the truth. “I’m still on birth control.” But you can’t help the way your body reacts to the idea.

Spencer’s free hand reaches up and caresses your cheek, causing you to meet his eyes again. “I’m comfortable with it.”

“Yeah?”

He nods and you feel him guiding you closer to him. “Yeah,” he whispers right before your lips connect with his. You kiss him softly at first, trying to say a thousand words you didn’t have time to say through your kiss. He tells you just how much he loves you and you respond in kind. His hands have found their way to your hips, his thumbs brushing against your skin underneath your shirt and you feel your body immediately thrum to life.

“I don’t want to be teased.” You say against his lips. He laughs, but instantly pulls back so he can take off your shirt. There are days that you spend hours with your bodies against each other, exploring, teasing, pleasuring. But you feel like you won’t last longer than fifteen minutes. You want him so bad.

He pulls you onto his lap, his lips against one of your breasts, quickly pulling a nipple into his mouth. One of your hands grabs onto his shoulder, the other one tangles in his hair, pressing him against you, not allowing him to move.

“Spencer, fuck.” You murmur and one of his hands slips into the band of your pajama pants. He gasps when he makes contact with your soaking center, but doesn’t waste any time before circling your clit. He lays kisses against your sternum, his jaw brushing against your skin, as he moves to your neglected tit.

Your hold on him tightens when he perfectly times it as he takes your nipple between his teeth and plunges a finger into you. “I need you, please, Spencer.” You scramble to grind your hips against him, finding that delicious friction that you’re desperate for.

“Do you want my cum, baby?” He asks, moving away from your breast, but still pressing his lips against any exposed skin he can find.

Your hips falter only for a split second. This is new. A brand new exploration for the both of you, but you can’t deny how you push down harder on his finger and feel the heat at the base of your spine start to spread. You bite down on your bottom lip and nod. “Yeah, yeah. I want it.”

“Then you’ve gotta do what I ask. Then you’ll get my cum like a good girl. Are you gonna be my good girl?” He pulls away from your skin completely and looks you in the eyes, you continue to push and grind yourself on his finger, but it isn’t enough.

“Yes, yes. I’ll be – ah” you gasp as he adds a second finger. “Good girl.” You finish and he grabs your hip to stop your movement.

“You’re gonna make yourself come with just my fingers, can you do that, baby?” You nod and feel yourself clench on him. He moves your hip for you, setting the pace and positions his hand inside you so that his palm grinds against your sensitive clit.

“Fuck,” you moan and he inclines his head to nip at your neck.

“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job. My good girl, aren’t you? So desperate for my cum.”

You nod your head frantically, your breath and words coming out rapidly, “I am. I am.”

He nips at your neck again, “I know you are.” He speeds up your hips. “I can tell you’re close, yeah, just keep doing that. So good.” He leans back to watch you fall apart on his fingers.

He holds onto your hip tightly, guiding you through the blinding white pleasure coursing through you, as you moan his name. You jerk against him and he murmurs praise against your lips, kissing you and letting you rest against him.

You pull away from him and reach between his body and your own and press a hand onto his rock hard bulge. He smirks. “I didn’t forget. That’s what you really want, isn’t it?” You nod and he’s pulling your pajama pants off of you and lifting his own hips to shed his pants as well. Your legs are on either side of his thighs and he trails his hands up your bare legs. But your eyes wander to his cock resting against him and you reach for him.

“You’re sure?” He checks in with you one last time.

“I want you so bad.” You grip his base and he tosses his head back with a moan.

“I’m all yours, baby. Take me.” You guide him until you're hovering directly over his leaking head. He hisses at the simple contact with your wetness. “Keep going, don’t stop, please.” He mutters and you feel yourself clench at his words. You lower yourself completely on him, slowly, savoring the sensation. He leans his forehead against yours when he’s fully seated inside you. “You feel incredible.”

You moan and grind against him, his hands flying to your hips, moving you against him again. As you move together, he starts to ramble. “If you want my cum, you're gonna have to work for it, love. That's it just like that. Fuck. Perfect. I can feel all of you. Every single inch of you. So tight. Yes, clench around me like that, squeeze me. I'll fill you up, baby, if you do that. Give you what you want. Get you pregnant.”

You gasp and grind harder on him.

“You like that, don’t you?” He mutters, biting at your shoulder. You nod, frenzied. “You want to be so full from me, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, please.” He moves you faster, but your hips falter and stutter against him, losing your rhythm.

“Come on, sweetheart. I thought you wanted me to come inside you.”

You whimper, “I do. I do.” You try to find the pattern again, but you can’t because you’re too close. He groans against you and presses you against him. Suddenly, you're lying on your back on the couch, Spencer moving your legs so they wrap around his body and you pull him as close as possible to you.

He’s impossibly slow at first, every single inch of him sliding into you and you arch up into him. Your hands grasp onto his shoulders and then scratch their way down his chest. “Please, Spencer.”

He answers you by slamming into you. You lose your breath for a split second, but then relax into his steady pacing. He leans down to you, kissing you and muttering against your lips. “You’re gonna squeeze my cum out of me. It’s all yours, baby. I know you want it. Don’t you? You want all of it?” His thumb finds your clit and you come undone against him, just as he plunges into you and you feel him fill you. Your nails dig into his skin and he whimpers into the crook of your neck. As the two of you inch your way off the intense cliff of your pleasure, his hips slow and he pulls away from you. He lifts up and watches as he slowly pumps into you, fucking his come deeper into you.

His eyes flick up to yours and he smiles and pulls out of you completely. He lays atop of you and kisses you deeply. His fingers trail across your cheek and into your hair.

“We need a shower.” He laughs. You laugh with him.

“And then food?” You ask.

He makes a low sound of approval from his throat. “Sounds like a plan.” And kisses you again.

tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #my writing

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holylulusworld · 2 months

Text

TOL - I’m your daddy now (2) - Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You reached the end of the rope.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader

Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, trouble, mentions of cheating (her ex), groping, breeding kink, smut, unprotected sex, implied oral (fem rec), sex on a table, doggy style, daddy Lloyd (not the kinky kind of daddy), Lloyd mentions anal sex (implied)

A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It’s the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine. It will lead toward Ari’s story. We will see their relationship throughout all other stories.

TOL - I’m your daddy now (1)

“Hands off, Mr. Hansen!” You slap Lloyd’s hand away. He tried to grab a handful of your ass, but you won’t have it. “Your filing system is a joke, and I don’t have time to deal with your libido while sorting all the files your former assistant hid under her desk.”

“Take the rest of the day off,” he stands behind you to press his firm body against yours. “I know your boss won’t mind. He pays you to look pretty and keep him happy.”

“I took the job for the money, not a limp dick. I already had a limp dick. He’s the reason I’m here. He wanted to push his useless dick into some new snatch. So, keep it in your pants. I don’t need dick. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Oh sunshine,” Lloyd brushes his hand over your ass,” don’t you want to feel the healing power of my cock fucking you six ways from Sunday? Only Lloyd Hansen can fuck you so good you forget all of your problems.”

“If that was true, I’d gladly ride your dick every time of the day,” you turn around to push against Lloyd’s shoulder. Since the day you walked into his office two months ago, he tried to get into your pants. – Or rather between your legs.

“Sunshine, be careful what you are wishing for,” Lloyd leans closer. “Tell me the problem that needs solving, and it’s gone. After I solved all of your problems, I want you to fulfill your promise and let me get my hands on that juicy ass and inside your sweet cunt.”

“My car broke down. My husband ran off with some skank and stole my money. I’m struggling to keep the roof over my baby boy’s head. And my son will grow up without a dad,” you huff and glare at Lloyd. “I don’t think you’ll be able to solve any of my problems.”

“Hmmm…” He nods and turns around to grab a piece of paper and a pen. “Car, deadbeat ex, money, house, daddy,” Lloyd notes. “Give me a month, cupcake and you’ll see all of your problems will vanish.”

“Sure-“ you grunt and shove against his chest when he tries to kiss you. “I got work to do, Sir. We have an appointment with your next victim in not two hours.”

“Victim? The ladies get money and grand-prime dicks they can choose. I force no one to fuck one of our clients. They come here to make money and get their pussies pounded like never before.”

“Just tell this to yourself,” you stick your tongue out. “Now, chop-chop. Get to work. We don’t have all day. I need to pick my baby boy up after work.”

“I’d like to work that body of yours,” he grins but turns around to walk into his office. “I hope you know that you got me rock-hard again, sunshine. The moment I solved all of your problems; I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

“Empty promises won’t make me wet,” you call after Lloyd. “If not for the money, I’d quit. And just you know, I hate that mustache!”

“You love it here, and working for me,” he grunts. “Just you know, if you ever get to ride my mustache, you’ll scream my name!”

“What the…?” You look at the keys of your cars in your hands and then at the parking lot. “That’s not my car!”

“Ah, there you are cupcake,” Lloyd purrs while you look around the parking lot to find your car. “Do you like your brand-new car?” He wraps one arm around your shoulders and pecks your cheek. “It’s a BMW X7, safe for kids and the ladies love it.”

“I don’t understand,” you lick your lips. “That’s not my car.”

“One problem solved, four more to go,” he kisses your cheek again, lips lingering a little longer. “Go ahead and pick your baby boy up. I bet he’ll love it too.”

Lloyd drops the keys to the car in your hands. “I—I can’t… where is my car?” You look at the keys in your hands.

“I got all your shit from your car and got rid of it. The papers are in the car. It’s yours, sunshine,” he grins. “I got work to do.”

You don’t get to protest. Lloyd walks away, whistling as you stand in front of the new car.

“You can’t just…what?”

“I don’t understand,” you rub your tired eyes. “I had fifteen bucks in my bank account. Now it says I got two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in my bank account. This can’t be right!”

“Miss, I checked your account thrice. It was there for almost five years,” she snaps at you. “It’s not my problem you have bad eyes.”

You blanch at her words. “If you say so,” you’re too tired and shocked to argue. You grab your things and walk out of the bank. This can’t be true. Your balance has been negative since your husband left you.

“Morning sunshine,” Lloyd greets you with a smack on your ass. “So, did you buy something nice?”

“What?” You glance at the paper bag filled with his breakfast and the coffee you got him on your way to work. “It’s your breakfast and the monstrosity you call your coffee.”

“Baby cakes, I didn’t get all of your money back and gave you a bonus for your hard work only for you to not buy you shiny things.”

“What? I—” You try to swallow the lump in your throat. “That was you?”

“I told you,” He grabs the bag with food and coffee to place it on your desk. “That I’ll solve all of your problems.” You end up in his arms, his face buried in your neck to nuzzle you. “I can’t wait to pound that pretty pussy. I bet you are hiding a hungry beast between those thighs.”

“Lloyd! Mr. Hansen!” You try to push Lloyd off of you when someone enters the building. “We have company.”

“Let them watch,” he purrs and nuzzles you again. “Did you ever take it up your ass, sunshine? I bet you didn’t.”

“Lloyd, a word,” a tall man with a thick beard, and dirty-blonde, shaggy hair steps toward you and Lloyd. He rolls his eyes as your boss shamelessly gropes your ass. “Lloyd! We need to talk. I need your help with something.”

“Not the ballerina girl again,” Lloyd sighs against you. “Ari, I told you to forget about her. She’s not one of my girls.”

You push against Lloyd’s shoulders to make him budge. “How can we help you, Sir?” You ask. The man doesn’t look like he has the patience to wait or to put up with Lloyd’s antics.

“Levinson, follow me to my office,” Lloyd finally turns his attention toward the impatient man. “I’ll see what I can do to get you laid.”

“I don’t want to get laid,” Levinson grunts. “I want her to be mine. She’s perfect for me. I just know it.”

“Perfect,” Lloyd hums. “Did you already get a taste of her cunt? I bet you didn’t and that’s why your aching dick tells you to marry her.”

You shake your head and try to focus on work, not the fact that Lloyd’s profession revolves around getting guys laid.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” You growl into your phone. “You have the nerve to call me to ask for forgiveness? How about you ask your son for forgiveness? No, forget it!” You snarl. “If you dare to get close to my baby boy, I’ll cut your limp dick off!”

You throw your phone against the wall, watching it shatter to the ground. Your chest heaves up and down and you’re close to attacking anyone coming to your path.

“Cupcake! What happened?” Lloyd pokes his head out of his office, aware that you are not in the mood to get messed with.

“He dared to call me to apologize!”

“Who?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“My ex-husband,” you grunt. “He told me that he transferred the rest of the money he stole from our accounts back and that he’ll sign the divorce papers.”

“That’s good, right?” He slowly steps out of his office, keeping an eye on you. “That’s what you wanted. To get your money back and his dead weight off of your back.”

“WAIT!” You round your desk to stalk toward Lloyd. “That was you!!!”

“Guilty,” Lloyd grins. “Problem number three is solved. And I roughed him up a little for you.” He shrugs. “I’m getting closer to the honey pot.”

Your mouth falls open. You don’t have a comeback this time.

“Don’t tempt me to shove something more than my tongue into your mouth. You better close it or you’ll be choking on my dick, sunshine.”

“You can’t just…” You throw your hands up when Lloyd turns around to walk back inside his office.

“I can and did, cupcake. Now get back to work. I’d hate to let you work overtime,” he grins and closes the door. “Only if it includes you impaled on my dick.”

“He…and then…” You can’t believe Lloyd roughed your douchebag of an ex up for you.

Why would he put so much effort into seducing you?

He’s a good-looking man if you ignore his personality and his annoying stache. Lloyd could have any woman, but he wants you – his chubby assistant with a kid and more problems than you can count.

Something must be wrong with him…

“Lloyd? What are you doing here?” You stare at your boss standing in front of your door. “My son is here! I can’t have you grope me or shit!”

“Relax, cupcake,” he grins. “I come in peace. I wanted to talk about a few things with you. My latest client needs our help, a special service.”

“Special service?”

“We must attend a dance class to help him,” Lloyd says. “Can we discuss this now or do you want to slap my ass for coming here first?” He furrows his brows. “What will it be?”

“Dance class?”

“Yup,” he nods. “How about I invite you for dinner and we can talk about joining a dance class to help him.”

“I got my son here, Lloyd.”

“Perfect,” he claps his hands. “I’m burning to get to know you mini-me. We will order food then and your kiddo can watch me do my job.”

“If you curse in front of my son, I’ll castrate you!” You point your index finger at Lloyd. “I’m warning you.”

“I’m a saint in the streets and a devil in the sheets,” he smirks. “I’ll behave. Promised.”

While you wait for the delivery service, Lloyd looks around your living room. He hums and sits next to your son on the sofa. “So, bud. How are you holding up?”

Your son looks up at Lloyd, squealing as he stares at Lloyd’s mustache. “Dadda?” Your son clumsily gets on his feet to stand up and grasp Lloyd’s face. “Dadda!”

“Hey, watch out, bud!” Lloyd grasps for your son before he can drop off the sofa. “Phew, you’re a handful, just like your mommy, huh? Let me get a good look at you.” Your boss smirks. “Look at you, you little shit. You’ve got your mommy’s eyes and damn me; you’d look good with a mustache.”

“What are you doing?” You gape at the scene. Lloyd is lifting your son to play airplane while your son squeals and babbles.

“Daddy!” Your son blubbers, making your heart ache. “DADDY!”

“Yeah, bud,” Lloyd looks you straight in the eyes, grinning. “I’m your daddy now. That deadbeat piece of … “ He clears his throat and reconsiders his choice of words, “crap can get fucked!”

“Lloyd!”

“Sorry, I meant he can ride into the sunset, and I hope a truck runs him over,” he grins and lifts your son up and down. “You are a cute little shit. No one will know you’re not mine. I’ll just make you mine.”

“What are you up to?” You try to fathom what’s going on, but the doorbell rings and you must get the food you ordered.

“One spoon for daddy,” Lloyd smirks watching your son shovel the food he ordered for him into his mouth. The peas and some of the meat end up on the table, but Lloyd doesn’t care. “And another one for mommy.”

“This isn’t funny, Lloyd,” you snarl. “If you fuck with me, fine. But keep my kid out of this.”

“Cupcake, no swear words in front of the kid,” Lloyd tuts. “I’m not playing games here. I want you, and you come with a cute little package. So, I’ll claim him as mine too.”

He turns his attention back toward your son. Lloyd grabs a napkin and wipes your son’s mouth. “We will teach you how to eat without dropping everything on the ground. Soon you will steal all the ladies’ hearts, bud.”

You shake your head and huff. This must all be a game to Lloyd.

There is no way he is interested in playing daddy for your son…

“Another problem solved,” Lloyd lazily leans back on your sofa and groans. “Damn, that food was great. I’m full.” He pats his perfectly defined abs. “I’ll raise your cute little shit and he’s got a daddy staying for longer than it takes to fill your cunt up.”

“Is all a joke to you?” You throw your hands up. “I get that you like to toy with me, but bringing my son into this shit is a new low.” You kneel on the sofa and bend over. “If you want to fuck me, do it now and leave my son alone. Come on, get it inside.”

“Y/N,” he gets off the couch to grope your ass. “I’d love to stick my dick into this perfect cunt, but I’m into this for the long haul.” He slaps your ass. “Stop being all mopey. I told you I like the little shit. He’s my son, and you are my dirty little slut. But you can call yourself my fiancé from now on.”

“Your—what?” you look over your shoulder. “Lloyd, my son cannot watch another father leave his life. You’ll break his little heart. Don’t do this.”

“I told you,” He huffs, “I’m here to stay. The boy is mine, just like his needy mommy.” His eyes drop to your ass, and he licks his lips. “All the dirty things I’m going to do to you. Like spoiling you like the perfect slut you are for me.”

“You’re so…”

“I know…” He grins and moves his hands to your ass. “Now, where can Daddy sleep? He wants to make breakfast for his little shit in the morning.”

“You can stay in my bedroom,” you lick your lips. “But only if you stop calling my son little shit.”

“We can rename him and call him Lloyd Jr. from now on,” Lloyd chuckles at your pissed expression. “You know, that’s actually a great idea.”

“His name is Y/S/N!”

“Debatable…”

Shit, you are in trouble. No – in deep shit. Lloyd easily made you melt in his arms when he told you he wanted to raise your son with you.

Now your boss has you bend over your dining table, ready to claim your cunt with his cock too.

“Hmm…dessert was nice,” he purrs in your ear, wet mustache tickling your ear shell. “I never ate a sweeter cupcake, Y/N. Now you’ll get the best dick of your life. This is the last dick you’ll ever get, sunshine.”

“Nghh…” You try to give him a snarky comment, but he stuffed your soaked panties into your mouth when he pushed you onto the table to eat your pussy like a man starving.

“Do you feel this,” he holds you down with one hand while he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. “What would your husband say if he found us here, fucking like rabbits?”

You don’t have an answer for him.

“He’d love watching me destroy this snatch,” Lloyd slams home with one hard thrust. He moans loudly and shudders feeling your walls open up to him. “Fuck, that cunt was worth the wait—” He groans into your neck.

You whine at your own weakness.

He’s an infuriating man, doing nice things for you and your son and you let him not only crawl between your legs to eat your cunt, no – you let him mount you like an animal at your home too. “That snatch is gripping me so tight that it almost hurts.”

Lloyd nuzzles his face in your neck, and purrs. “But it hurts so damn good, doesn’t it?” You whine again, smothered by his body pressed against yours, and your own neediness.

He slowly rocks his hips, forcing you to feel every drag of his thick cock against your walls. Your legs quiver. Lloyd is not your passionless husband, nor the vanilla guys you fucked before him.

The man rocking into you came to conquer and he won’t do it halfhearted. “I can feel your pretty pussy cling to my cock. She’s as desperate for me as you are. But don’t worry. I’m going to take good care of her.”

Lloyd is having a blast destroying all of your defenses. He dismantled your defense and now, you lie on your table in your dining room and get railed by the man with the mustache.

“Nggh,” you groan against the makeshift gag. Lloyd picked up the pace and you end up bumping your hip against the table.

“Fuck, yes,” he curses loudly. “Never took you for someone wanting me to fuck you on your dining table.” He stills his hips to nip at your neck. “Do you want me to cum inside of you, and give you another little bundle of joy?”

You shake your head, but your cunt flutters around his thick length. If he wants to fulfill his dirty fantasies about breeding you, so be it.

You push back on him, taking Lloyd by surprise.

He eagerly grips your hips to move his hips in sync with you. Flesh claps against flesh, and he groans loudly as you don’t just take it.

“Fuck,” he curses and grunts while you start to go faster. “Shit, yes…”

A little too fast for his liking you clench around his twitching cock. He groans and stills his hips. Lloyd can’t move or think. This is the most intense orgasm he felt in a long time, or like ever.

“Fuck, take every droplet, sunshine.” You close your eyes and shudder feeling his seed coat your walls. “I hope I put a little Lloyd in you.”

“Goodnight, bud,” Lloyd covers your son with the blanket. “You need to sleep now, okay. Your mommy is very tired.” He grins when you enter the room to take care of your son. “Shhh…I wore her out. She’s so out of it, that I need to take care of you.”

“Daddy?” Your son grabs Lloyd’s hand, holding it tightly.

“Don’t worry, little shit,” Lloyd looks down at your son, a smug grin on his lips. “I’ll be there in the morning to make you breakfast. And in nine months, you are going to have a brother or sister.”

“Lloyd, not again,” you swat his hands away when he tries to spoon you. “I’m tired and sore.”

“Relax, I’m satisfied for tonight. Three rounds are enough for our first time,” he plays the big spoon and wraps his arms tightly around your body. “Little Lloyd is asleep, and my cock too.”

You roll your eyes. “You didn’t keep your promise. I’ll still lose the house because my bank is a bitch.”

“Oh, about that,” he nuzzles his face in your neck. “You and little Lloyd will move in with me. I have already arranged everything. Tomorrow the moving team will come around and grab all of your shit.”

“What? No. Lloyd,” you sigh deeply. “Y/S/N needs a nursery and a garden. We can’t just move out of our home only because you are crazy.”

“I’m not crazy cupcake,” he nips at your earlobe. “I claimed you and little shit as mine. This pretty mommy is all mine now, and your son will wear my name too. He’s going to have a better father than I ever had. Soon he will forget about his sperm donator and call only me his dad.”

“If you hurt my son, and don’t keep your promises, I’ll castrate you…”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #smut #lloyd hansen x you #plussized reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #TOL - I’m your daddy now (2) (Lloyd Hansen)

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cottonlemonade · 1 month

Note

Hi there! could i get a medium to large mango with boba for tsukishima! i really love your work

Just A Dream

word count: 806 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband Tsukishima x chubby!Reader

genre: this has it all - for some reason, fluff, a pinch of angst and a dash of spice

warnings: mdni, nsfw

____________________________________________

Kei woke with a start. Fumbling fingers reached for the glasses on his nightstand. It was absurd, of course you‘d lay next to him when he turned around. Right? He swallowed and looked over to the other side of the bed. Sure enough, in the dark he could just make out your soft curves under the blanket, gently rising and falling in a deep peaceful sleep. He let out a sigh. It was just a dream. You hadn‘t really fought, he hadn‘t made you cry, you hadn‘t been disappointed in him. You hadn‘t left. But nevertheless, the panic in his chest felt real. He should make sure to prevent his nightmare from ever becoming reality. What an absurd thought. Or was it?

He leaned over and, his eyes now accustomed to the night, admired your features. The cute chubby cheeks all smooshed together, making you look impossibly adorable. How he ever got you to fall in love with him he‘d never know. He felt like going down that road of thought was not exactly safe for him. Your husband brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and with a touch light as a feather kissed your temple before getting out of bed.

First things first.

He headed to the kitchen to grab some water, emptying the cup in deep gulps, feeling his pulse settling down.

Quietly, he reached into the cupboards to set the table for breakfast the next morning and once he was satisfied with his work, grabbed his phone. He had used this service many times before but it had probably been months since the last time he even got you flowers. He bit his lips, scolding himself, as he selected a bouquet of your favorites to be sent to your office some time next week as a surprise. Then he stood in the dimly lit living room, looking around for inspiration. What else could he do? What would Tadashi or Akiteru do?

Didn‘t his friend just tell him last weekend that he always included a little love note in his wife‘s lunch box?

Now, Kei, as gifted of a man as he was, didn‘t cook that well. He was decent with ramen and could fry a mean egg but his skills were definitely not enough for a bento. Plus, technically it was Sunday tomorrow and it wouldn‘t make sense for the lunch box to sit around a whole day. But… he could do the love note. How cheesy. Would you even like it if he did? He sighed again. Only one way to find out. He rummaged around in his desk and found a little note pad you had gifted him as a joke last Valentine‘s day - two brachiosauruses forming a heart with their long necks. He cringed when he reached for a pen. But it had to be done. No stone should remain unturned in his endeavor to prove his love for you. With gritted teeth he wrote one note after another, but they all sounded too out there, too much, insincere.

So in the end after several crumpled dino post-its he wrote I love you, x K and, before he could change his mind, quickly stuck it into your day planner for you to find on Monday.

After another thorough check on the kitchen table to make sure he didn‘t forget any dishes, he made his way back to the bedroom. His feet, cold from the wooden floor, slipped underneath the blanket and he pulled you close to wipe away the very last remnants of panic clinging to his heart. You were right here in his arms, still asleep, still unbearably gorgeous. Kei buried his face in your hair and took a deep calming breath.

He supposed there was one more way he could show you his love tonight…

Kisses pressed to your shoulder and neck made you stir against him.

“Kei?“

You turned around, sleepily rubbing your eyes. He brought his hand from your hips up to your breasts and squeezed them gently, just the way you liked, ghosting his fingertips over your hardening nipples.

“Mmh… Kei… what?“

“I need you, sweetheart.“, he muttered. You couldn‘t know that he meant it in more ways than one.

You let out a tiny sleepy giggle. “Is that so? Well, no complaints here.“

He kissed you, elated when you immediately opened your mouth for him to deepen his affection.

“Can I … ah, y/n… can I be inside you?“

“As if I could ever say no to you…“

He raised your nightgown above your head, relishing in the sight before him - his beautiful naked wife smiling up at him.

When he entered you slowly a few moments later he felt beyond relieved. It had all just been a dream and yet, he still couldn‘t believe his luck.

____________________________________________

a/n: this one got away from me - I’m so sorry for the added angst! I hope it’s still fine. Thank you so much for your request and your kind words and I love your writing, too!! 🌱

for requests see here

#sunnys lemonade stand #tsukishima x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukki x chubby reader #tsukki smut #haikyuu tsukki #hq tsukki #tsukishima kei x chubby reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima smut #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukki x reader #tsukishima kei

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creelteeth · 2 years

Text

quiet down ( steve harrington x reader )

summary: you spend the night at your best friend’s house and her older brother steve decides to join you for movie night. somehow, some way, the two of you end up alone and things get heated.

word count: 5.3k

content warnings: smut (18+ only) , afab reader, virgin reader, mutual pining, some angst, oral (both receiving), throat fucking, innocence kink (kind of), praise kink, reader is in high school but they're 18.

just like every other friday night, you found yourself at your bestfriend's house for movie night and a sleepover. it was ritual at this point, she'd pick you up for school that morning and you'd return home sunday evening.

today was not much different except for the fact that Steve, her older brother, would be joining you. His job at Family Video seemed to benefit you guys. you always got the discounts— you’d also get to have first pick of the newly released tapes. When the two of you heard that Top Gun had finally made its way to Hawkins, you begged him to bring it home. normally, Steve would just deliver the movie and you'd watch it in her bedroom but, his condition for this particular film was that he would get to watch too since he also wanted to see it. and you.

Your friend whined a bit at the idea of her obnoxious brother joining in on the movie, since according to her, he hogged the popcorn and talked too much. you, on the other hand didn't mind if he joined in, though you'd never admit it to anyone, you had a massive crush on Steve. That of which showed itself a bit when you made sure to pick the cutest pajamas you owned for this weekend's slumber party. The Head Harringtons were out of town so you settled for something rather skimpy. Lucky for you, your best friend was too oblivious to recognize the extra efforts you'd put in.

the two of you laid out in living room floor talking about the day you had while waiting for steve's shift to end. somehow in the midst of all your conversations the topic of boys came up. she had her high school sweetheart, ricky, who she absolutely adored. you didn't have the same luck as her, which didn't matter much. apart from your crush on Steve, which you obviously couldn't spill the beans on, you didn't have much to talk about.

"come on, there's gotta be someone you like? what about Jason Carver?" she sat up to show the Hawkins High 85' yearbook to you, finger pointing to the picture of the basketball team.

you looked over the picture, eyes fixing on the person standing next to jason, that person being steve.

"ugh, no. jason is so annoying, plus he's all over chrissy this year." you shrugged off her question, reaching out to close the yearbook.

you knew the crush you had on steve was unrequited. you figured if you waited it out, once you went away for college you'd find someone else to spend your time fawning over. though part of you was also convinced that steve was the perfect person for you. he always felt so close, made you feel so safe, but he was always stuck on nancy wheeler or some other girl and you'd continue to be just kid to him. and of course, above everything else, your best friend would absolutely murder you.

it was about this time that steve arrived home. he managed to convince robin to cover the rest of his shift so he could get home to the two of you. he didn't wanna leave you home alone for too long, and truth be told he was excited to be able to hang out with you guys.

you'd been too occupied with your conversation to hear him come in the house. steve rounded the corner to see you laying on your stomach with a pillow stuffed under your chin— your feet up in the air swaying mindlessly.

the position you laid in made him stop in his tracks. he stood silently for a second, taking in the sight of you and the unreasonably small pajamas you'd decided to wear tonight. the little blue shorts you wore had hiked up a bit with the position you were in, showing off the soft curve of your ass. your thighs spread far enough apart that he swore he could see the perfect outline of your cunt. he'd never seen this much of you before, the sight before him making his mouth go dry.

it didn't take long for your friend to notice steve standing silently in the arched entry way. she'd been in the middle of stretching when she looked over her shoulder to see him gawking.

"ahh! Steve, you creep what are you doing home so early?" she yelped, sitting up to grab the nearest pillow to throw in his direction.

"sorry, sorry! " he repeated, stepping to the side to dodge the item sent in his direction. "I got off early so you wouldn't have to be alone in the house." he explained, clearing his throat at the end.

when you noticed him standing behind you, you scrambled to sit up. you yanked the nearest blanket over your legs suddenly regretting the bright idea you had to dress for his attention. he hadn't even looked at you yet, part of you was relieved while the other part of you was bummed.

"okay, fine, but don't creep up on us like that...did ya bring the snacks we asked for?" she spoke, batting her eyes up at her older brother, reaching out for the plastic bag that dangled off his fingers.

steve finally walked into the room, handing off the bag to then go place the tape he brought home into the VCR. why won't he look at you?

"yep, razzles for you and watermelon ring pop for the kid." steve hummed, plopping down on the recliner across the room.

the kid. he always called you that, or some variation of it, but for some reason it was extra frustrating to hear this time. the night had only just begun and you already felt incredibly stupid. you'd talked yourself into the idea that if you dressed up and spent some time with him that maybe he'd see you differently but clearly that wasn't going to happen. not when he wouldn't even look in your direction.

while you argued with yourself silently, steve was doing the same. he wasn't intentionally ignoring you, but he knew that he couldn't look cause if he looked, he'd stare. he took notice of your change in attire, his ego telling him that you dressed that way to catch his eye. if that was the case, you certainly succeeded.

steve had always prided himself in being good to you while also respecting his sister's wishes. if he had it his way, he'd have you but, he knew that wasn't going to work out. didn't stop him from thinking about it though. the image of you laid out in the floor was playing on repeat in his mind. he only saw it for a second but he was sure he had a perfect, practically photographic memory of what it looked like.

you sat through majority of the movie in silence, focusing your attention on the watermelon candy. you had it stuck on your pinky, lips wrapped around it. you'd pull back with a quiet puh! sound every once in a while.

the dimly lit room made it easy for you to remain unaware of the side eyes steve was giving you. he'd been doing his best to stay focused on the film, but he was majorly regretting buying that specific candy for you. every time he'd look over you'd be focused heavily on the movie, eyes fixed on tom cruise while your lips and tongue worked around the candy. his stomach churned knowing he shouldn't be looking at you in the way that he was. he felt awful, not just because you were his sister's friend but because he knew what you were doing was innocent. unfortunately, steve couldn't help the things it made him think about.

your friend had fallen asleep just before the end, snoring in the floor on a pile of pillows. when both you and steve recognized the noises you looked to the middle of the floor where she laid, then up to each other. it was the first time all night steve had looked you in the eyes. the tv illuminating his face enough for you to see his big brown eyes soften at the sight of you. the silence grew when the end credits rolled in, the two of you seemed to be waiting for someone to speak first but no one did.

instead, you got up to carry the empty popcorn bowl into the kitchen. Steve sat back in the chair, watching you walk off. he argued with himself for a minute. this was the first, and probably last time he'd ever get any chance to be alone with you before you left for college in a few months. he knew that if he didn't try now, there'd be no other opportunities. with that, he followed behind you, tiptoeing through the room careful not to wake his sleeping sibling.

you were standing in the kitchen drinking a glass of water when you heard footsteps. your stomach dropping at the sight of Steve. he was still dressed in his clothes from work. the navy blue polo hugged his muscles so well, well enough to make your stomach flutter. the way he looked when he walked in made it seem like he wanted to speak so you waited, both hands wrapped around the glass.

steve didn't really have a plan for when he got you alone, he could hardly focus when he saw you there in the outfit you wore. eyes scanning over you slowly, drinking you in.

the slow scan of your body made you cower a bit, sitting the glass down to cross your arms in front of the part of your stomach that was showing.

watching you shy away brought a faint smirk to his lips. he stepped forward, leaving only a few inches between you. as much as he would've loved to ease into it, he didn't know how much time he had.

"steve?" you asked, looking up at him like a lost puppy.

"hm?" he hummed, hand coming up to grab at your chin, his thumb smoothing over the edge of your jaw.

you could feel your heart pounding inside your chest, body frozen underneath him. there was absolutely no way this was happening. no fucking way.

you wanted to speak but no words made their way out. all you did was stand there, big puppy dog eyes staring up at him.

"did you dress like this for me?" steve asked, his hand moving away from your chin, finger tracing the extremely low neckline of your top.

the question made your breath catch, were you that obvious? you considered an answer for a second, before ultimately giving him a sheepish nod.

"ah, use your words." he tutted, finger grazing over the exposed parts of your chest. he couldn't help but smile at the way he could see your nipples begin to protrude the thin fabric, hardening into stiff peaks with just a few light touches.

"yes.. I did— ‘m sorry." you breathed out, eyes dropping to the floor embarrassed by your desperate attempts. you weren’t sure why you chose to apologize, it just felt necessary.

steve didn't reply with words, instead his hand came back up. this time he took a firmer grasp on your chin, tilting it back so that he could duck down. his closeness pulling a whimper from you.

"you've got my attention now, sweetheart. what do you want with it?" he spoke into the curve of your neck, lips planting small kisses up to your jaw.

you stammered a bit, eyes blinking shut.

steve was kissing you.

just as you were about to admit your wants — a slew of word vomit ready to spill from you , your friend began to toss n' turn. the sleepy moan reminding you both where you were. you choked down the speech you wanted to give about how much you adored him, loved him, needed him. instead, you settled for something much more feasible.

"want you.." you muttered, a brave hand coming up to press flat against the already growing bulge in his jeans.

steve was shocked by your sudden confidence, a groan vibrating out of him at the sudden contact. he reached down to grab your wrist, pulling the hand off him so that he could step back. he looked over his shoulder at the girl who was still asleep. sending her a telepathic apology. he knew he was going to pay for what was to come but god he couldn't help it. steve never had the opportunity to be selfish, tonight he was going to do exactly that.

he looked back over to you, then to the stairwell. bringing a finger up to his lips to shush you, his other hand still on your wrist guiding you to follow him up to his bedroom. you did your best to stay quiet, though you could hear your own heartbeat echoing in your ears.

you made it up the stairs and into his room successfully. the second the door was shut, his lips were on you. the kiss was sweet at first, he walked you backwards to lay back on his bed — once you wrapped your legs around his waist it became hungry and desperate. sloppy wet noises echoed around the bedroom, his hands eagerly roaming about your body, slipping under your shirt to paw at your chest.

you moaned into his mouth, back arching up against his touch. you felt yourself become dazed, eager hands finding his body the same way his found yours. you wanted to take your time with him, to let him be the person who took all of you— but somehow admitting to him that this was going to be your first felt embarrassing.

rather than admitting that, you turned the attention on him. tugging weakly at the button that held his jeans together until eventually you got it to pop open. you attempted push his pants down but he swatted them away— his swollen lips working against yours. you wanted to be close, as close as possible, wanted to exhaust every fantasy you'd had over the years but there just wasn't enough time.

"steve," you mumbled against his lips, pulling back to catch your breath.

he took the break to catch his breath too, brushing his messy hair off his face.

"need you.. please" you whined, hips raising off the bed to connect with his.

steve couldn't even begin to explain how badly he wanted to fuck you. he was dying to feel your pussy wrapped around him, but even more than that, steve needed a taste of it. he needed to have his face buried in between the puffy lips he caught somewhat of a glimpse of hours earlier.

"gonna take care of you, I promise." he nodded, kissing you one last time before moving down to be eye level with your sex.

you became a bit self conscious seeing him to close it, even more so when he pulled your shorts and underwear off in one fell swoop. your hands came up to cover your face, thighs clenching together. It was around this that made steve realize you were probably a lot more inexperienced than he'd imagined. he grabbed at your thighs, pressing a kiss to both of them.

"hey.. don't hide from me, let me see you." steve spoke quietly, his tone bringing you some comfort.

you sighed, keeping your hands over your face while slowly parting your legs. steve groaned, his mouth practically watering at the sight of you. you'd gotten so wet he could hear it when you legs parted, a string of slick connecting your folds.

"fuck, you're perfect." he insisted, hands coming down to rest on either side of your puffy mound.

he used his index fingers to spread you even farther apart, licking a long flat strip up the center. the contact causing you to gasp, your leaky hole spasming against his tongue.

"taste so fucking sweet. even better than I-" he mumbled against your sex, pausing between words to press a kiss to your sensitive button. smiling at the way it jumped under his touch. "..- imagined."

"please," you whined, your hands that were once covering your face now gripping at the bed.

he didn't need much more than that— still spreading you open with his fingers, steve began to lap at your hole. the tip of his tongue circling and dipping into the opening, his nose bumping against the tender bud. the new found contact pulled the most pitiful whimpers out of you, your thighs clamping shut around his head.

"steve, oh my god!" you'd almost forgotten about the fact that you needed to keep quiet. for a moment you didn't care but then remembered who was asleep downstairs.

you bit down on your bottom lip to stifle the noises, slippery wet walls clamping down around nothing while steve licked through your folds. he eventually worked his way up to your clit, lips wrapping around the throbbing button. he sucked harshly on the area, pulling a high pitched squeak out of you.

your thighs trembled desperately around his head, hips rutting upwards to hump against his face. he knew you were going to cum, drunk off the taste of you gushing into his mouth.

he kept his attention on your clit, his tongue making circles around it. he let you ride it out however you needed, a moan vibrating against you when you yanked on his hair.

" 'm gonna - fuck - im gonna cum steve" you mewled your words out, orgasm coming with the words spoken.

he kept his attention on you, letting you rutt against his tongue to ride out your orgasm. when you finally stopped trembling so much he pulled away. sitting back on his knees to look down at you, lips swollen and glistening with your remnants.

"c'mere" he exhaled, grabbing loosely at the base of your neck to pull you up into a kiss. the taste of you still fresh on his lips.

after a moment he pulled back from the kiss, smiling at you "see that? tastes so fucking good."

"better than you, imagined?" you repeated back the words he spoke to you moments before this — trying to wrap your mind around the fact that he imagined what you tasted like in the first place.

"yeah, baby. so much better than I'd imagined." he emphasized the last word, knowing that's what you were holding onto.

steve was not expecting anything in return, doing his best to ignore the painful mess going on between his legs. he looked at the clock by his bed, wondering if you two even had any time to do anything else. he was not yet ready to part from you, even if it meant just holding you.

you had other ideas though, sitting up on your knees you crawled forward to where he sat on the bed. his jeans were still on, hung low around his hips, low enough to show the tip of his cock pitching a tent in his boxers.

you watched him with those big wet eyes, ducking down to kiss over the clothed tip.

he hissed lowly at the contact, watching the arousal that soaked through the fabric smear across your lips.

"my turn?" you asked, looking up at him with the softest expression.

even if he wanted to, he couldn't say no to you. after so many hears of knowing him, you knew how to break him. all it took was batting those eyelashes at him for him to give you what you wanted.

"fuck, yes. your turn, baby." steve spoke, lifting his hips up to pull his bottoms off for you.

your eyes practically bulging out of your head at the sheer size of his cock. you knew it was big, it was always visible in whatever he wore, but you didn't expect it to be that thick. the swollen tip of it slapped against his stomach, a bead of pre dripping down the side.

"uh…stevie" you spoke, wrapping your hand around the base loosely.

"hm?" he replied, eyes watching you intently, cock jumping from the slightest contact.

"what do i do with it?" you kept your hand there, thumb tracing over the thick vein that ran up the side of it.

something about the question you asked made him exhale sharply, cock twitching in your grasp. maybe it had to do with the dumbfounded expression on your face.

you didn’t know how to touch him.

“oh, honey..” he whispered, hand coming up to cup your cheek, brows raising slightly. “you gotta put your mouth on it.”

you nuzzled against his palm for a moment, enjoying the softness before ducking down to let the swollen tip prod against you lips.

steve felt a moan get tangled up in his vocal chords— watching you kitten lick over the head of his cock made his body tense up. truthfully, he could probably cum from just this. seeing you treat his cock so sweetly was driving him absolutely insane.

he let you do what you wanted for a minute or two, but you didn’t go past taking short licks across the spongey pink tip. his balls tightening with every wet stroke of your tongue.

if you weren’t operating on short time, he’d have let you carry on for as long as you wanted but he needed more. rather that pushing your head down and risking your likely sensitive gag reflex he decided he’d teach you.

"poor thing, doesn't know how to suck cock?" he taunted you a bit, a lazy smirk playing across his lips.

the torment made your body heat up— you tried to come up with an excuse or reasoning but there wasn’t one. shaking your head no to his question, an embarrassed pout forming on your kiss swollen lips.

“oh, baby..” he sighed, “don’t worry, i’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

being the first person to fuck your throat was going to be so fun for him.

he pushed your hand off, replacing it with his own. angling the fat mushroomy tip for your mouth, letting it graze your pretty pink lips.

“spit on it.” he instructed, nodding when you tilted your head in confusion.

you did as you were told, letting a glob of spit drip off your tongue onto the head of his cock. you kept your eyes on him the entire time, waiting for what to do next.

“fuck— good job, just do what i tell you to. ‘kay?” steve breathed out, smearing the wetness around the girth.

you nodded, eyes dropping down to watch him stroke himself. he squeezed it tightly, making long slow strokes that pulled very gruff sounding noises out of him.

steve lifted his hips up, pushing his cock against your pout for you to taste him. instructing you through all of it.

“open up for me, wide.. wider— fuck there we go, good job, baby.” he groaned, eyes fluttering feeling your hot wet mouth wrap around the sensitive tip.

he knew that your gag reflex was probably very sensitive. more than that he also knew that his cock was going to be a lot for you to take, regardless of past experience— so, he was careful not to push very far in. stopping about a third of the way, he kept his hips still , wanting you to do the work.

your hand came up to grab at the base again, this time squeezing tighter. trying your best to mimic what he was doing, making shallow pumps.

“yeah, don’t be scared of it— there we go, just keep doin’ that.” steve moaned out his praises, his hand resting lightly on the back of your head. he had no intention of pushing it down, but he wanted to grab onto your hair if need be.

you caught the hang of it pretty quickly, hallowing out your cheeks to suckle on the half that was stuffed in your mouth.

it took everything in Steve not to lurch forward. he wanted nothing more that to lodge his big fat cock in the back of your throat, but he knew better than to do that. giving the back of your head some encouraging pets when you began to bob up and down.

"just like that, angel." he groaned, jaw hanging open.

he made the prettiest sounds. sounds that encouraged you to keep going, to get more brave with your actions.

slobber started to spill down the sides of his cock. Steve couldn't get over the sight before him.

"fucking hell, get it all wet f'me. " he slurred, cock throbbing in your mouth.

"you look so pretty like this, drooling all - shit - all over my cock. d'you like it? does it taste good?"

the words sputtered out of him, encouraging you to up the ante. you moaned an mhm around his cock at his question before pushing your head down as far as you could get it.

you didn't get very far before your throat started to protest the intrusion, gagging at the feeing of him prodding the back of your mouth. you were determined to carry on though — grabbing hold of his big muscular thighs to steady yourself, you tried to keep going but your throat tightened.

feeling your warm wet throat clench around him made nearly made him whimper.

he knew you were struggling against your gag reflex, he found it amusing how you determined you were.

" s'okay baby, you don't have to make it fit all the way." as much as he wanted you to swallow all of him, he didn't want you to push yourself. he was already nearing his edge, the tears welling up in your pretty eyes more than enough to send him over.

you gargled around him, whining in protest to his remark. you wanted it, wanted to take it.

"okay, alright, just sit there i'll help you fit it in. you gotta relax, let me push it in. whenever, fuck me, whenever you feel like you're gonna gag need you to swallow."

he did his best to explain the technique, hand pressing firmer against the back of your head so that he could begin sliding in. your slippery warm throat spasming around the sudden intrusion but to his surprise he got it in.

Steve reached one hand around to the front of your throat, finger tracing over the bulge.

you wiggled down as closely as you could go, nose buried in the thick patch of hair that grew around his cock. the scent of him was enough to make you dazed, eyes screwing shut to just feel him. feel every inch of him stuffed inside your drool filled mouth.

after some time steve started to rock back and forth slightly, his strokes were short and sweet but you loved it. flatting your tongue against the underside of his cock, swaying it from side to side to egg him on.

"shit.. gonna cum"

that seemed to be all he managed to say before his cock began to twitch violently. you could feel him pulsating inside you, cock remaining lodged in the back of your throat. every lasting drop of his hot sticky cum spilling into your mouth, you had no choice but to swallow it.

he stayed inside for a second longer to catch his breath. easing his way out of you so that you didn't sputter too much. finally having your mouth free against you coughed and hiccuped, using the back of your hand to wipe the drool off your chin.

Steve sat there panting, looking at you, he admired the way you looked. that just-got-fucked look wore so nicely on your pretty face.

"hey, come here." steve instructed, grabbing at your chin to pull you to eye level, planting yet another kiss to your lips.

this one was a bit sweeter than before, he let it linger a minute — but when the kiss ended the air in the room suddenly felt heavy. both of you realizing what just happened, it was a mix of post-coital bliss and existential dread.

you reached for the blanket on his bed, pulling it over your bare half. could feel your stomach doing flips. he was everything you ever wanted, maybe even more than that, yet you couldn't help but feel bad.

steve just looked at you for a minute, taking in the way you looked, thinking back on the way you felt. he contemplated going in for more, but then he remembered the time.

every morning at five, his sister gets up for a run. there wasn't much time left to be spent with you, only two more hours. he didn't have the heart to kick you out, not yet at least.

"Steve." you sighed, the buzz of it all starting to wear off when you noticed how late it was.

he only nodded, moving up to shimmy his boxers back on. he grabbed your discard clothing too, handing it to you. once you were dressed he got into bed, peeling back the covers on the empty side for you to climb into if you wanted.

he let you get settled, dropping an arm around your waist. you had laid facing him, nuzzling your face against his chest. it felt nice to be held by him, even though the pit in your stomach was only seeming to get heavier and heavier.

"it's gonna be fine, I promise... i'm not gonna say anything."

the beginning of his sentence soothed you in some way, but all that comfort got yanked away at the end. you had a secret now. a dirty one. you didn't regret it, neither of you did, but it felt like a ticking time bomb. the idea of sneaking around was exciting, of course, but you knew this was going to be the end of it.

"can we just stay like this for a bit?" you muttered, already dozing off in his arms.

you'd fallen asleep on his chest, the most out of those final hours before you heard the alarm blaring from the next room over. the thin walls working in your favor for once. you sat up quickly, trying to pry his heavy sleeping arm off your body so you could run to the other room before she came upstairs.

"steve.. steve move! " you whisper yelled until finally he turned the other way, groaning at you for disturbing him.

all the sleep leaving you when you heard her echoing a "hello?" from the bottom of the stairs.

you got up and ran into the bathroom, thanking god for the face that they seemed to share one. you bolted from one room to the other, throwing yourself on the mattress, covering yourself with the quilt. you kept your face buried in the pillow so that she'd think you were still sleeping.

to your surprise it worked, tiptoed in to grab her running shoes before worming her way back out.

once you were alone, it all set in. your throat was sore from the prior events, but you liked being able to still feel parts of him. the bruise at the roof of your mouth was going to stick around for a few days. it didn't feel real to you.

after a couple of hours of real sleep, both you and steve seemed to wake up at the same time. it was now around nine am on saturday, the both of you walking like zombies down the stairs to grab breakfast from the kitchen.

"jeez — what's gotten into you two? were you up late?" she looked over you, both of you having the same tired and dazed looks on your faces.

her question made steve cough into the cup of coffee he was sipping. you did your best to remain nonchalant, focusing heavily on the piece of toast you were smearing butter on.

he peered at you over the coffee mug, waiting for his sister to look away so that he could send you a wink. your hands fumbling over the butter knife.

this was going to be so very fun for Steve.

#best friend’s brother!steve #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington x you #Steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #s.h.#casey writes

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